


i know where my heart lies

by orro



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, M/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 97,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orro/pseuds/orro
Summary: The day Yuuri Katsuki announces his retirement from competitive figure skating Yuri is forced to admit he has feelings that extend beyond rivalry. He’s been trying to knock Katsuki off his top spot on the podium for years. It’s not fair that he thinks he can retire and leave Yuri like this.Victor’s dream has always been to skate on the same ice as his idol. Yuuri’s retirement throws a wrench into those plans but that’s okay; Victor is flexible enough for a layback Ina Bauer so he can totally work with this. Yuuri can be his coach instead.Yuuri just wants to eat some katsudon and enjoy spending time at home after years away at competitions. He doesn’t need these Russians barging into his retirement. They’re interrupting a supposedly peaceful contemplation of what he’s going to do with the rest of his life.[aka age swap au where Yuuri is the 27 year old legend, Yuri is the 23 year old rival, and Victor is the 15 year old newcomer.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers crossed we get a rating change to explicit soon.
> 
> If I get anything wrong about, well, anything but mostly the figure skating information, feel free to correct me. I might not be able to change it for plot reasons but I will most certainly try my best to fix it.

**St. Petersburg, Russia  
February 2016**

“Get lost,” Yuri growls and he glares at the junior skater who pulls up a chair next to him. Everyone knows that when Yuri demands the tv, you best get out of his way, otherwise the Ice Tiger will eat you alive. Even Yakov will allow Yuri to schedule his lunch break to watch the programs he needs to.

The silver haired boy smiles at him, bright and clueless, while making no show of leaving. If anything he plants himself in his chair more firmly, as if daring Yuri to do his worst. Yuri wonders if this moron is aware of who he is and if he’s planning an assisted suicide. He tilts his head at him and narrows his eyes, letting his chair scrape against the floor over the sound of the commentators.

“I said, get fucking lost.” 

“I’ll be quiet,” he promises. 

“Not the point. Now. Last time. _Get. Lost_.” 

The boy shrugs again and Yuri is about to flip the table. Yuuri Katsuki is due to skate next and before Yuri can stand up to physically throw the boy out, the crowd on the television roars as Katsuki glides onto the ice for his free program.

“If you make a word, you’re dead,” Yuri snarls but his eyes are glued to the screen. He’s not sure whether to be pleased or irritated that he gets no response but his arch rival is about to perform and Yuri tolerates no interruptions during this sacred time. 

Yuuri usually takes second or third in the short programs then nails it in the free skate. It’s been a steady pattern for the past five years and Yuri watches as he takes his starting position. His expression is peaceful, like he already knows he’s going to win, and Yuri would puke but then Katsuki begins to move. 

Even from that first step his body is fluid and smooth, his edges so perfectly sharp that Yuri almost falls forward out of his chair in sheer awe. His first jump is his quad toe loop and Yuri nods in approval as lands. When Katsuki moves into his step sequence Yuri forgets to keep a critical eye out even though he’s seen this program before during the Grand Prix qualifiers and final. 

Yuri struggles to get level fours on his steps and spins but Katsuki manages them with hardly a sweat. He twists and turns, elegant and certain of himself, of the blades that carry him across the ice. With every movement of body and every slight gesture of his hands, he paints.

His quadruple toe loop is solid but his quad salchow is all over the place so he’s not surprised Katsuki nixed it for the short program. It’s a disappointment when he steps out of it. Yuri has both down but that means shit when Katsuki skates like this, body perfectly in tune with the music and skates flying across the ice as he dances the most intricate and spellbinding of stories. 

His theme this year was something about gratitude. People have been speculating about Katsuki’s retirement since it was announced but Yuri knows that he’s just a big fucking sap. The term Katsuki actually used doesn’t translate very well from Japanese to English, let alone Russian, despite Yuri’s frantic searching but he doesn’t need words to understand the message Katsuki is skating. It’s in every spin and step, his love and appreciation echoing as he spins a perfectly centered corkscrew.

He ends with his face raised towards the sky, hands outstretched at his sides, and Yuri yearns for something he can’t even begin to pinpoint. Not even Katsuki’s flubbed jump was enough to disrupt the flow of his performance. Yuri relaxes a little, having been tense and on the edge of his seat, and as he leans back he realizes that the boy sitting next to him is crying. There are tears still rolling down the his face. He’s been quiet so Yuri hasn’t heard him but his face is undeniably red and blotchy.

Yuri says nothing and turns back to the screen, his gaze out of focus as the commentators replay some of the highlights from Katsuki’s program. He doesn’t need to watch right now because every step is burned into his sight and soul. No matter how many times he watches Katsuki skate it’s still inspiring.

As expected, Katsuki takes the Four Continents Gold, and Yuri scowls to himself. He’s already lost to both of Katsuki’s programs at the Grand Prix Final but it seems the freak has managed to step up his game even further since then. He’s not going to be able to beat him at Worlds like this. But no matter how hard he works at it, no matter what Yakov yells or encourages, he can’t move the way Katsuki does. His quads mean so little when there’s no emotion behind them.

The boy is rubbing the tears away from his face, not embarrassed but in the process of collecting himself. Yuri eyes him for a moment, awkward because he didn’t cry but the feeling in his chest won’t go away, and it would be easier if he could just sob like a child. He turns in his chair so he can face the boy. Anyone who can appreciate Katsuki’s skating to this extent is probably worth engaging with.

“What’s your name?” Yuri says and he should pay more attention to the junior skaters but he’s busy trying to kick Katsuki’s ass. There’s no time to look at the future encroaching on him when he can’t even beat what’s right in front of him.

“Victor,” he says and he takes a now calm breath, wiping away the last of his tears. “And you’re Yuri Plisetsky, Yuuri Katsuki’s main rival, and perpetual silver medalist.” 

“You are a piece of fucking shit,” Yuri says but as hard as he tries, he can’t manage to fully hide how impressed he is. The Ice Tiger of Russia has a reputation for a reason but that doesn’t seem to phase this baby. 

“You love his skating,” Victor says with a small smile and a finger pressed to his lips. His tone is entirely too triumphant for a guy whose face is still a mess from crying and Yuri wishes they were the same age so he could kick him in the face without being accused of child abuse. “I knew you couldn’t be that much of an ass.” 

“You’re right and wrong,” Yuri mutters because he is a magnificent bastard and proud. But he’s still human somewhere beneath the fangs and ice. 

And he’s long ceased to be embarrassed about his admiration of Katsuki, especially since it’s mixed in with a hale and hearty hatred; he’s going to destroy him one day and it’s going to be amazing. (It’s easier to call it admiration and hatred, because the alternative is too much to bear.)

Sometimes it’s a shame that Katsuki doesn’t seem to register him on the same page but he does acknowledge their rivalry. It only took literal goddamn years to get through Pork Bowl’s head. For all that he’s capable of infusing such flowing emotions into his skating, he’s pretty oblivious off the ice, and Yuri can’t reconcile the two sometimes.

“I’m going to skate on the same ice as him one day,” Victor says as he sighs in delight. He looks at Yuri. “You’re so lucky.” 

“I’m going to fucking crush him,” Yuri says because he’s not lucky for constantly getting silver to Katsuki’s gold but Victor laughs. “Shut up! You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ll win Junior Worlds this year, after all,” Victor says airily. Yuri raises an eyebrow because he can appreciate cockiness, he really can, but it’s still irritating to hear it come from anyone other than himself. Victor misinterprets his look and grins. “I won last years.” 

“Congrats. Now get out.” 

To his surprise Victor gets up. 

“Next year I’ll be making my senior debut.” He crosses his arms, his hip jutted out. “I would have moved up this year but Yakov wouldn’t let me.”

“And?” Yuri asks, glaring at him. The same thing happened to him but he’s not going to sympathize with this arrogant child. Yakov knows better than this idiot junior skater.

“Then we can see who gets to compete against Yuuri Katsuki,” Victor says with a polite smile that only hides what a complete and utter asshole he is. 

Yuri stares at him for a minute, taking in his long hair and longer limbs. He can’t recall what Victor’s skating looks like though doubtless he’s been on the same ice as him. But Victor presents a pretty image, almost as fey as Yuri had been as his age, and something in his gut chills at the realization.

“I’m Russia’s champion,” Yuri says in a low tone. 

“You are,” Victor agrees. He smiles at the television where Katsuki is being interviewed. “But not the World Champion.” 

‘And not Russia’s for long,’ his tone says and Yuri is about to throttle him. But Victor saunters out like he’s already beaten him and Yuri is sure he’s never hated anyone this much in his life. He glances at the screen where Katsuki is still answering questions and clenches his fists. No, Victor is definitely the worst, because he’s an uppity little brat; at least Katsuki has earned his medals. 

**Hasetsu, Japan  
April 2000**

Yuuri is twelve when his parents ask him if he prefers ballet or figure skating. It’s a monetary concern for them because while Minako-sensei is willing to cut her tuition in exchange for an ongoing tab at the onsen, it’s not enough to offset the cost. And with school, there’s no way that Yuuri has time for both, though his parents kindly do not bring up the topic of nonexistent friends.

They don’t rush him into choosing and even then Yuuri is thankful, because ballet and figure skating are what consumes his small life. It’s going to take a lot of thought and he spends the whole week quiet and contemplative as he tries to decide his fate. 

Mari laughs at how seriously he takes it but she quit ballet the minute their parents let her and she’s never gone ice skating save for once, claiming it was too cold and it hurt her butt to fall that often.

Instead of paying attention at school the next day he stares out the window and contemplates. The teachers don’t notice since he’s always quiet and it’s not like he has many classmates who talk to him.

He makes lists instead of taking notes but they look too similar. The cons are about the same; he can’t eat katsudon all the time, he has to wake up early, his feet are more bruises and calluses than appendages some days and he has to talk to the other kids in the classes. 

(There’s a plus for ice skating there because he has Yuuko and Takeshi as rinkmates though they’re younger than him while he doesn’t talk much to the other kids in his ballet class.)

The pros are where he stumbles because how can he write down the feeling of flying through the air when he jumps? The sensation of landing a good jump on his skates versus one on the ground is similar and he doesn’t know how to explain the difference. But they’re both good and he can forget that he’s just Katsuki Yuuri, the unremarkable boy, when he’s dancing. 

A step sequence can be done on the ground much like a dance is and sometimes there’s no difference. He can’t say it’s always the same to dance on the ground as it is to dance on the ice. But he can’t explain exactly what’s different. 

Yuuri thinks about flipping a coin. He goes so far as to flip a 100 yen but before he can see which side it lands on, he shoves it back into his pocket. In neither figure skating or dancing can he be so ambivalent as to rely on pure chance. He understands this already. Whichever one he chooses he will devote himself to not just out of choice but also by necessity.

Instead he decides to take a week off from each. A week won’t be enough lose his hard earned work but it’ll be enough to see which he misses. Minako-sensei looks at him like he’s a little crazy when he tells her his plan but she tells him it’s good that he’s taking this decision seriously. It’s her approval that lets him avoid the studio without feeling too guilty. And she was the one who introduced him to figure skating anyway. 

Yuuri finds himself dancing in place, tapping his feet while waiting in line at school and taking every opportunity to gracefully weave his arms through the air as he helps out at home. It helps that he still goes ice skating and he thinks it’s sort of cheating. But he’ll still dance when he doesn’t skate next week. Yuuri’s mind skips at that but he ignores it. 

His mom tries one night to softly coax answers out of him after she catches him dancing in the kitchen when he’s supposed to be getting extra plates but Yuuri just shakes his head and murmurs that everything is fine. He doesn’t know what he wants or how to feel. It’s easier to keep going along this path. 

The week ends and when he returns to the studio, Minako-sensei nearly tackles him and knocks him to the hardwood floor to ask what his decision is. Yuuri says something about missing the feeling and she grins, saying she’s proud of him. He doesn’t quite understand why but then he doesn’t feel like he had explained himself properly. How does he explain that it’s not a muted joy to return to the studio but something far less? And then there’s the sinking pit and coiling twists of his insides as he realizes that his week without skating is here. 

On the second day his mom asks if he’s sick. She knows that he’s skipping going to the rink but she still asks. Yuuri blinks at her then shakes his head. Last week he spent extra time at the Ice Castle since he wasn’t at dance. But Minako-sensei won’t let him do the same at her studio, claiming he does need to rest at some point.

He goes three days before ending up back on the ice. Nishigori-san smiles and asks him where he’s been as he hands Yuuri his favorite skates. He says something about his son Takeshi asking where Yuuri was but Yuuri runs to the locker room before he can finish. Yuuri’s fingers are trembling as he does up the laces, badly enough that he has to redo the left boot so it doesn’t bite into his foot.

He steps onto the rink and he inhales the sharp cold smell. Everything feels right as he skates and when he lands, solid and in excellent form on his double toe loop, Yuuri knows where his heart lies.

**Grand Prix Final**  
**Goyang, South Korea**  
**December 2008**

Yuri is fifteen, determined to win the Grand Prix Final in his senior debut. He’s aiming for Nationals, Europeans, and Worlds as well, but the GPF is first up so that’s what he’ll focus on for now. He gets Gold in Skate America and it feels so right to sit atop that throne, smirking down at the decrepit guard around him as he prepares to take what is his. 

Then Skate Canada comes along and he meets Yuuri Katsuki who takes Gold away from him. 

Here’s the thing: Yuri has newspaper clippings and magazine interviews of him haphazardly stuck on his wall and ceiling. He watched Katsuki’s senior debut with mounting dread because as beautiful as his skating was, the man could not land a jump to save his life, and it was killing his score. 

The worst part is Yuri has internet stalked him and he’s seen plenty of videos of Katsuki’s nailing his jumps during practice that he fails to perform in competition. It’s goddamn infuriating and Yuri almost asks Yakov to take Katsuki on because Yakov wouldn’t stand for this bullshit. Yakov would kick Katsuki into shape and make him into the champion that he truly is. 

Even Yuri knows it’s impossible but he watches Katsuki skate anyways, yelling at the screen in the privacy of his own room when the idiot falls over and over. He could be so good and Yuri wants to see that. 

Yuri had almost dropped his phone when he’d realized he would be skating in the same competition as Katsuki. Mila had accused him of finding a girlfriend, unable to figure out why he was so chipper the next day. 

But that wish does nothing to quell the shame and fury as he stands to Katsuki’s right. The cheers of the crowd are deaf in his ears and the thousands of lights from the photographers’ cameras are a blur. Yuri is here to tear down the old kingdom and crown himself the new king of figure skating. Silver doesn’t accomplish that. 

But Katsuki has a new fire in him after a dismal senior debut and it’s just in time for Yuri’s own debut. Even so, no matter what kind of drive or determination Katsuki has, Yuri should be able to crush it handily. 

He’d wanted to meet Katsuki as a winner, as a legitimate threat to him and all of the other seniors, to earn his respect with a cocky grin and a wave of gold. Yuri knows he’s good. 

It’s just that Katsuki is that much better now.

Yuri can’t bring himself to talk to Katsuki, not while they’re taking photos at the podium or later at the banquet. Yakov has to drag Yuri there, keeping a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from booking it. Normally Yuri would chafe at that but the entire time he’s there, getting congratulations on his shitty silver like it’s a big fucking deal, he’s holding a scream in his throat. 

It’s easy to avoid Katsuki at least and Yuri thanks the universe for that small blessing. Yakov has sponsors and old friends he wants to introduce Yuri to. The future of Russia has a nice ring to it but he doesn’t deserve the title if he can’t win gold. 

Katsuki makes his rounds then he and his coach excuse themselves, citing an early flight back. Once he leaves Yuri relaxes a little even though his suit is too stiff, enough that he manages to slip a glass of champagne and when Yakov catches him, it’s worth the familiar irritated look. It’s a thousand times better than Yakov’s concerned faux parent face. 

“I’m going to win Gold at the Grand Prix Final,” Yuri tells everyone, his face only slightly flushed. He’s outraged but not surprised when people coo over him. But that’s Yuri’s job, to show them that he’s serious, and he catalogues each face so that he can push himself to train harder. 

His senior debut is going to be amazing and it’s not going to be anything like Katsuki’s failure of a run. Yuri is the future of competitive figure skating and he is going to make history. 

“Good,” Yakov says when Yuri returns to his side as they prepare to depart. “Show them all what you can do.”

Yakov approves of his drive, and he’s almost as merciless as Yuri about it. He still has to watch that Yuri doesn’t overexert himself. To Yuri’s disgust there’s always someone around at night when he’s trying to sneak extra practice time in and they shoo him off before he can even get his blades on.

He doesn’t win the Grand Prix Final, booted all the way down to fourth, and his blood nearly boils at the injustice. Yuri doesn’t even get to share a podium with Katsuki this time. He refrains from crying but he has to swallow his screams and tears, something Yakov is both acutely aware of and completely flummoxed by. 

Yuri is usually not one of his skaters on the brink of letting his emotions flood out; that honor belongs to Georgi, who is in no way competition for either Katsuki or Yuri. Yakov had probably been thrilled to start training up a champion for Russia though Yuri has failed at that so far. 

Neither Yakov nor Yuri know what he needs right now and it’s an awkward afternoon as Yakov alternates between hesitant gestures of sympathy and gruff criticisms that lack his usual bite. Yuri orders dessert, some chocolate eclair thing that tastes like ash in his mouth and Yakov doesn’t even raise an eyebrow.

It’s when Yakov starts to say something about skipping the banquet that Yuri snaps. He’s not some kind of fragile princess and he can definitely handle his loss. No one is going to say that Yuri Plisetsky is a sore loser even though he totally is. 

He’s scowling as he walks into the banquet room, and when he sees Katsuki, standing by his coach as they talk to someone who Yuri should probably know, that Yuri realizes what he needs.

“Katsuki!” Yuri shouts at him. He doesn’t pay attention to Yakov’s attempts at controlling him. No one can stop him because this stupid, beautiful idiot of a gold medalist has annihilated his dreams even while igniting a new one. He ignores all the eyes that turn to him. “I’m going to crush you at Worlds!” 

Katsuki looks bewildered and he exchanges a look with his coach but after a moment he nods in acknowledgment. 

“Okay. I’ll meet you at Worlds,” Katsuki says. 

It’s not as good as winning but it still feels good to hear. This time Yuri lets Yakov drag him away to the other side of the room. When he gets back to his apartment he’s ripping every poster down. Japan’s ace can suck his dick. Yuri is going to fucking kill him.

**Trophée de France**  
**Paris, France**  
**November 2015**

“Good showing out there,” Christophe Giacometti says as he sidles up to Yuuri during the banquet and wraps an arm around his waist.

Yuuri jumps but he settles down once he sees it’s Chris. Of course it’s Chris. No one else is that touchy with him. He slides free and carefully does not look at Chris’ face, because he’s doing that mock pout and Yuuri never knows how to handle it.

“Thanks. You too. I’m glad we both qualified,” Yuuri says. 

He’s taken first place in the NHK Trophy and Trophée Éric Bompard while Chris has his gold from Rostelecom Cup and his silver here from France. They’ll meet at the Grand Prix Final and Yuuri isn’t lying when he says he’s happy for Chris. An injury had kept him from competing to his fullest last year but it seems like he’s healed up now. Chris might be his only friend who skates and he treasures that, even if they seem like an unlikely friendship. 

“How’s your new best friend?” Chris says as he waves his phone around. Yuuri doesn’t have to ask to know that means Phichit. He’d spent the first month around Phichit ducking every time he had taken his phone out to avoid an impromptu selfie though now Phichit asks before taking or uploading photos.

“He’s not my-” Yuuri starts before he realizes that Chris is joking. He takes a sip of his champagne, well aware that Celestino is watching and Yuuri wishes he could have more than two. The alcohol helps take the edge off all the people trying to congratulate him and sneak in a question about his future plans. “He’s good. I’m hoping he make it to the Finals this year. He got Fourth in Skate America so he needs second or better in China.” 

Phichit is more like a student than a friend, nearly a decade younger than Yuuri. He’s a bright ray of sunshine on the rink and he’s only half joking when he refers to Yuuri as his second coach. Yuuri only smiles because if he says what he’s thinking, that watching Phichit skate is like seeing the future of figure skating manifest before his eyes and he’s so proud he could burst, it’ll only invite his panic. Nowadays retirement is the only question people have for him. 

“If he has your recommendation then I should go back and watch his programs closer,” Chris says. 

Yuuri nods, because Chris will definitely be pleased with what he sees. Once Phichit gets a handle on his jumps he’s going to be a force to be reckoned with, enough that Yuuri has no doubt he’ll consistently make the podium. This year, Phichit is pouring his heart and soul into his programs, and Yuuri hopes the judges will recognize and reward that passion. 

Without needing to be asked, Yuuri leans in so that Chris can take a series of selfies, and he watches as Chris hums and dithers over the best one to post. 

“Take your glasses off and let’s try again,” Chris says and Yuuri laughs a little but obliges. He wonders at how many people follow Chris’ accounts to get images of him, since he’s horrible about posting to his instagram and twitter. Phichit had been aghast and he’s tried to work with him to post more but nothing Yuuri does is really interesting enough to warrant posts and tweets. 

People want to see him win medals and that’s easy enough to google. 

Yuuri follows Chris as he goes to get a selfie with the bronze medalist, a Russian named Georgi Popovich. He avoids meeting his eyes too much, even as he knows that Georgi looks at him with interest. Georgi is rink mates with Yuri-kun and who knows what he says about Yuuri. It’s probably nothing flattering and Yuuri tries to stop thinking about the other Yuri. He still doesn’t know how Yuri-kun feels about him, other than he’s absolutely ecstatic when he beats Yuuri. 

“Your friend has already liked all my pictures,” Chris tells Yuuri as he shows him the notifications. 

Yuuri laughs a little because Phichit will not sleep when he knows there’s an event going on and if Celestino finds out he’s going to throttle him when they meet back up. He can already hear Celestino’s lecture about night owls and proper bone growth, especially because he’s heard it enough himself. 

Yuuri eventually leaves Chris and returns to Celestino’s side, nodding and smiling when it’s appropriate. Luckily Celestino averts the discussion away from Yuuri’s future plans, well aware of what they are, and fully agreeing with keeping a tight lid on the matter. By the end of the night though, Yuuri is more than a little wound up, because it’s the one constant he hears, even more so than the congrats on his gold and placement. 

It’s not till he’s curled up in bed, listening to Celestino breathe softly in his sleep in the bed next to his, that Yuuri begins to relax.

He opens his phone to see congratulation texts from his friends and family waiting for him. Yuuri had ignored them earlier in favor of calling but he’d kept that call deliberately short, waiting until a few minutes before the banquet and then using that as an excuse. Lately instead of making him feel better it hurts to hear their voices.

Skating is his everything, but Detroit isn’t home; he left home behind in Hasetsu so he could pursue competitive figure skating. Yuuri tried one year to skate competitively from Hasetsu but it hadn’t worked out. He needs to be around his coach and rink mates to be in the proper state of mind, otherwise he starts hyper panicking about failing his family and hometown. 

It’s enough that he worries about disappointing his own standards. 

Yuuri visits in the off season but it’s not enough for his parents. And it’s getting harder and harder to leave Hasetsu when October rolls around. The town will never be busy but there’s life there now, and it’s thanks to Yuuri. His wins have brought skaters to the Ice Castle and business to the onsen. Minako-sensei even has students again, enough that she’s been holding recitals for the past few years, though Yuuri isn’t sure that’s any of his doing so much as she’s seized the opportunity.

Yuuri looks at the images Chris uploaded, and he can still remember the young boy who had nervously approached him after he had won his first Worlds for an autograph. Even now, Yuuri can’t explain to Chris that he’d brushed him off because he’d been wound up with anxiety after his Gold medal. 

How do you explain to a newly debuted senior that the World's Gold medalist is panicking because people are going to expect more wins from him? It just sounds selfish. 

Luckily Celestino had caught the tailwind of the incident; he hadn’t made Yuuri do anything right then and there but after explaining what had happened, he’d encouraged him to respond. Yuuri had mailed Chris a proper photo and autograph, which in Chris’ mind had absolved him of his inexplicable rudeness and solidified them as friends. Yuuri has softly thanked Chris dozens of times to his confusion because if it hadn’t been for him, Yuuri wouldn’t have had any friends during his first years of competition.

Yuuri likes the images and then follows the link Minako-sensei sent him about the GPF line up so far. He’s qualified, and so has Chris, but it seems like they’re the first two. Yuuri sighs in relief at his secure placement. 

He missed out on last years GPF and his insides churn at the recollection. There’s no way he can miss this years, especially if this year will be his last. He’s been skating competitively for almost a decade and a half. No one but his coach has an inkling that he’s going to announce his retirement after Worlds. 

Yuuri stops on a photo of Yuri-kun posing with his latest gold medal from Rostelecom Cup. There’s no doubt that Yuri-kun will qualify as well, barring injury or incident. He’s going to find out at some point about Yuuri’s retirement and Yuuri has no clue what his reaction will be. The media refers to them as rivals, and they are, but it’s much more intense on Yuri-kun’s part. 

Yuuri bites his lip over the half written text because Yuri-kun deserves to know. It’s not the first time he attempts to send this message. He sets his phone aside instead. His flight to China is tomorrow afternoon. He’ll tell Yuri-kun eventually. And worst case, he’ll find out at Worlds, like everyone else. 

It’s selfish and cowardly but Yuri-kun is the one who started this whole rivalry. Yuuri is going to be the one to end it but he doubts Yuri-kun will like how he goes about it very much. Yuuri will be twenty-seven by the time Worlds comes around in March though.

Figure skating has been his life but it’s time for Yuuri to go home. Whatever Yuuri wins or loses at Worlds, he’s ready to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [lazuliblade](http://lazuliblade.tumblr.com/) for all your figure skating help. Any errors are mine and everyone is free to call me out on them.

**St. Petersburg, Russia  
February 2016**

It turns out that Victor the goddamn fucking piece of shit is actually good at skating. 

Though how he can see when his hair is flying all over the place is what really sticks in Yuri’s maw. Yuri’s hair is always done up for performances and for practice he’s usually got it in a braid or tail. The idiot is probably doing it for the aesthetic. Yuri hopes he falls. Unfortunately he nails all his jumps, including the quad toe loop, and Yuri has a feeling that Victor saw him watching. 

“You look serious.” Mila Babicheva stops in front of him.

Mila runs her mouth off too much but he’s seen her pick up the younger skaters and threaten to throw them in the trash. Yuri isn’t afraid but he’s not stupid. He kicks at the ice, taking satisfaction in the sound it makes before looking back at Victor.

“What do you know about Victor Nikiforov?” Yuri asks, not looking at her. She’s going to be surprised for all of two seconds before finding a way to make fun of him. There’s no respect for one’s betters around here. Yuri is Russia’s national champion but the only one who seems to recognize that fact is Georgi, who knows his place and the rest of the little skaters, who give him a wide berth.

“You’ve never paid attention to the junior skaters before,” Mila says, leaning against the barrier. She takes a drink of water and studies him. Yuri chances a look. Her face is dripping with sweat, turning her red hair dark against her forehead, but her eyes are sharp. “Yakov says you have to focus on all of your competition but you’ve never paid attention to anyone but the other Yuuri.” 

“I’m going to beat Katsuki.” It pops out of his mouth without effort and Mila smiles a little. “I am. Shut your face, you hag.” 

“I’m younger than you,” Mila says. 

“You act like an old lady, I’m going to call you out for being one. Stop gossiping in my ear. It’s annoying.” 

“You asked _me_ ,” she says mildly. “And I do know Victor. He’s three years younger than me and the Junior World champion. If I thought you would listen I would tell you to watch out for him. Yakov has high hopes for him. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard him call Victor the future of Russia’s figure skating.” 

Yuri snorts at that. He’s the present and future because he’s not going anywhere any time soon. He will beat Katsuki and take the gold from him. He just hasn’t accomplished it yet but he will soon. He has to. 

“Kind of surprised you didn’t notice him before,” Mila says. Yakov glances at them but says nothing, instead looking back at the ice and reminding them both to get back to practice with a mere look. “He’s almost a big of Yuuri Katsuki fan as you.” 

“Katsuki is my rival-” 

“Whatever. The point is, Victor won’t shut up about him, and you never stop screaming about him, so you two should be best friends.”

“Victor is an asshole,” Yuri says. 

“That’s a point on his side because then it means he can give back as good as he gets,” Mila says. She takes another drink and sets her bottle down. “Can you watch me on this triple loop? It’s not going as smooth as I want it.”

Yuri nods and Mila pushes off. Victor is on the other side of the rink, talking to one of the other junior skaters, laughing and tossing his hair over his shoulder. Yuri thinks he’s flirting. It’s disgusting. 

“Future of Russia, my ass,” he mutters as Mila yells at him to pay attention to her. He shouts back that he is and then actually does because Mila doesn’t take his shit. She has no respect but she’s dead set on nailing a quad and Yuri can respect that kind of ridiculous. 

Her takeoff is sloppy as hell and Yuri rolls his eyes at her when she loops back around. 

“Watch someone do it right,” he says and she groans at him but she watches intently. At least she recognizes his skill even if she’s always trying to make fun of him. 

He continues to help her until Yakov calls Mila over. She’s got a much better smoother takeoff now though she’s going to need a lot more practice before the triple is considered perfected, let alone attempting a quad. Yakov would be so ridiculously proud if he had a women’s skater that could pull it off though. And Mila would go down in history. Yuri thinks he’d like to see that.

Yuri has his own piece of history to defend though. He holds the world record for the short programs but Katsuki has been trying his hardest to smash that. It’s a threshold that Yuri has been clinging to as Katsuki wins gold after gold and has his own records with the free skate and the total score solidly on his side. 

By the time Yuri gets off the ice, skate guards on and scrolling through his phone for a moment before heading to the showers, most of the other skaters have left by now. He prefers the sound of other people around because it’s a good white noise that lets him tune everything out and focus. Without people, the rink turns barren, and the ice feels more dangerous, like it’s waiting for him to make a mistake and devour him.

“That’s so conniving of you, asking Mila about me,” a voice behind him says and Yuri wheels around to see Victor smiling at him. He gestures between Mila, who is off the ice and done for the day but is presumably waiting around for a friend, and himself. Victor is in boots and he’s also probably finished with his on ice practice. “You could have just asked. I would be happy to tell you whatever you wanted to know.” 

“We weren’t talking about you,” he says shortly and keeps his eyes on Mila. “I was helping her with her triple loop earlier. Don’t be a fucking idiot.” 

Victor’s smile doesn’t change from that stupid fake angelic look, and Yuri has to wonder on how many people it fools. Probably a whole lot because he worked that angle once in awhile when he could pull it off and people ate it up. 

Yakov has never pushed him to train with the younger skaters and perhaps this is why; Victor is too startling close to what he used to be. It doesn’t hurt. Yuri worked too hard to reinvent himself to mourn the skater he had been. He’s the Ice Tiger of Russia now and his programs reflect that hungry drive he has to prove himself the best in the world. 

But it is disconcerting, to see Victor sweep across the ice, long hair and lithe frame painting such a pretty picture that for a moment Yuri can almost imagine himself in his place. Yakov must have realized it at some point and others like Mila couldn’t have helped but notice.

“Mila suggested we should be friends,” Victor says with a calculated laugh. 

“What?” Yuri says. Did he hear them?

“She’s been telling me that for years,” Victor says with another laugh. “I never paid attention to it because you don’t seem to want anyone’s attention but Yuuri’s.” 

It’s unmistakable that Victor means Katsuki when he says that name. Every syllable oozes with hero worship and adoration. It’s disgusting enough that Yuri almost wants to gag. Yuri shoves his phone into his jacket pocket.

“She’s right. I don’t want anything to do with you. Even if you make it in the senior division, you won’t beat Katsuki or me, so I don’t need to care about you,” Yuri says, getting ready to leave for the day.

“That’s fine, Yuri-kun,” Victor says.

Yuri freezes for a moment as the name registers and processes then he slams his hand against the wall so he can pin Victor in place without actually touching him. He leans down to push his face into Victor’s smug look. Even without his skates on, he’s much taller than Victor, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that again,” he says, and to his surprise his voice comes out relatively measured. 

Victor doesn’t seem shocked. He blinks a few times, slow and calm, and his expression doesn’t change. 

“Only one person gets to call me that and it’s not you. Got it?” Yuri says. All he can hear is Katsuki murmuring his name with the added syllable, as if trying to frantically remember the sound before Victor’s voice edges it out.

“But it’s so confusing otherwise, Yuri-kun,” Victor says, his tone layered with honey and so disgustingly false. 

The sound of that name coming from Victor’s mouth is wrong. It breaks the endless refrain in Yuri’s head as he remembers every time he’s heard Katsuki call him that. Victor doesn’t place the right emphasis on the syllables, the click of the words is too harsh, and it has none of Katsuki’s warmth or affection.

“Call me whatever the fuck you want but if I hear you call me that again, I’m going to kick your ass,” Yuri says. 

Victor says nothing but his smile doesn’t change. Yuri leaves him there, certain that he’s made his point. 

**Finlandia Trophy  
** Vantaa, Finland  
October 2007 

“Go. It’s your turn,” his coach says. Tanaka Ayumu is many things but warm and comforting he is not. Minako-sensei had vetted for him though, saying he would help Yuuri go far and here Yuuri is at his first senior competition. 

Yuuri swallows, wishing he could just choke down all his fears and anxieties. He can’t drown out the crowds and noise like he could before. The other competitors don’t seem this nervous. Why is it just him? 

He knows his family is watching. They would have come if they could have afforded it. He doesn’t know if that would have been better or worse. Minako-sensei is here with a huge banner that has his name on it in bright pink. He hadn’t even bothered with a plea for her to put it away; she made it herself and she’s very proud of it. And him, of course, so he can’t say anything because he’s thankful that she believes in him so much. 

He wants to pay that kindness back in kind, to win and prove that their hopes in him aren’t unfounded or a waste of time, and the feeling sits in his stomach like a brick. 

Yuuri glides out to the center, forgetting which way he’s supposed to be facing like they had decided in practice earlier. He has to turn and then the music is starting just as he gets into the proper position. 

Yuuri dives into the music, desperate to skate to his fullest, because this is what he’s worked so hard for. It’s his senior debut and he is going to show the world his skating. 

His first jump goes well, a triple axel, and he sighs in relief as he hears the cheers of the crowd. He’s worked hard on this one and it’s one of his favorites, even as he’s still not totally steady with it yet. 

His triple toe loop is a little shaky but he lands it all the same. He’s just settling into a comfortable feeling when he goes for his combination jump, and on the last triple loop he knows he won’t make it.

Yuuri falls and he gets back up right away but for a blindingly long moment he can’t remember what happens next. His body doesn’t betray him though and it picks up the next movement without him fully realizing it. 

He over-rotates his next jump and Yuuri forces himself to keep going. He can’t stop in the middle of a program. If he does he’ll be lost. 

And Yuuri can’t lose this. Skating is his dream, his life, and he cannot lose this, not when he’s just begun to compete on a serious level. He’s going to be up against the best in the world on an international level and he wants that, to push himself to stand at the top with the rest.

The ending chords play, echoing throughout the rink, and Yuuri can’t hold back his tears. He doesn’t need to see his score to know how badly he did, to see all the negative GOE points and the falls replayed in slow motion. They’re all repeating in his head, over and over at such a dizzying speed that it takes all his remaining strength to make it to the kiss and cry. 

Tanaka-san hands him his blade guards and water bottle, which Yuuri gratefully chokes down. He wipes at his eyes before the cameras can catch much more of it. He doesn’t want his family, his hometown to see him like this. They’ve supported him for so long and they deserve better. And he can’t be that person for them. 

Yuuri looks at his score, thankful that the numbers are blurry without his glasses even though he can hear the commentator read it out. He can’t see his disappointment in detail, he’ll have to look it up on his phone once he’s out of the kiss and cry. Postponing it won’t do him any good but for a few moments he can ignore it. 

There’s still the free skate to come. Yuuri bites his tears back because Tanaka-san won’t appreciate them. 

“We’ll work on your jumps for Skate Canada,” Tanaka-san says and Yuuri nods. Tanaka-san pauses and shifts a little in place. “Your spins were fine. Excellent, even.” 

Yuuri nods again because it’s pity praise and he doesn’t need that. What he needs is to be better so that no one will have to say such painful and awkward phrases to him. 

“Yuuri! Good job out there!” Minako-sensei says when she finds him in the back but she’s faking it, trying to put on a happy face for him and Yuuri wishes he were good enough that she didn’t have to force herself through this. They think he’s so talented but he’s just a disappointment to everyone. 

“Thank you,” he forces himself to choke out but Minako-sensei knows him too well. “You’re missing the other skaters.” 

“That’s fine,” she says and Yuuri shakes his head. 

“Please go watch them. You came to see them too, right? You like it.” 

“And you?” she asks coolly. Yuuri blinks at her, not understanding her question. “I came to see you most of all, Yuuri. Go change and we’ll explore the city. We can watch the rest up in my hotel room.” 

“Minako-sensei.” Yuuri trails off because he’s not sure what to say. He wants to hole up in his room and never come out again, or barring that, wake up back in his own room and have this be done with. 

“Come on,” she says and Yuuri doesn’t argue again. Tanaka-san always defers to Minako-sensei or more probably he knows that she won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 

Minako-sensei pulls out her phone and starts looking up tourist spots. Yuuri shrugs at each place she suggests until Minako-sensei finally just starts dragging him along. She points out restaurant after restaurant, and Yuuri shakes his head at all of them. He’s starving but if he starts eating he probably won’t stop. If anything will ruin his free skate it’ll be binge eating; it’s happened before and he doesn’t care to repeat the experience. 

“I’ve still got the free skate,” Yuuri says and Minako-sensei sighs but doesn’t press anymore. 

“That’s good, to stick to your diet and plan, but you can’t forget to live a little too, Yuuri,” she says. “Do you think I always did as my instructors said?” 

“No,” Yuuri says because he knows for a fact Minako-sensei has always followed her own course. 

Minako-sensei looks at him then chuckles. 

“You hide your impertinence behind such a cute face, Yuuri.” 

“Huh?” 

“Would it make you feel better to hear how I got piss drunk the night before an audition and my sensei yelled at me in front of the whole troupe?” 

“Not...really,” Yuuri says. Listening to other people’s embarrassing stories just makes his skin crawl. 

“Okay, then, listen to this,” Minako-sensei says and she stops in place. She meets his eyes and won’t let him look away. The people and noise around them melt away for a moment as Yuuri gives her his complete attention. He can almost imagine them back in Hasetsu, Minako-sensei criticizing his form and driving him hard as she gives gentle praises to the other kids in the class. 

Because Yuuri could do better. And he did. He practices and trains and he keeps going long past when he should stop because he wants to be good at what he loves.

“I know you’re nervous and scared. Today, you didn’t skate your best, but that’s okay. This is your first event of the season. Your story is just starting,” Minako-sensei says. She smiles softly and slings an arm around his shoulders. “So it’s not the best beginning for you. Who cares! Wednesday will be a new chance.” 

Yuuri lets her keep her arm there even though it feels too heavy, the weight of her confidence in him and her certainty so misplaced but he can’t say that. He nods and thanks her for taking him out; he still would have preferred to stay inside his hotel room but what he wants and what’s best for him are usually not the same thing. Even he knows that. 

They eventually find a soup and salad place that Yuuri deems safe enough to eat and Minako-sensei grumbles about it, saying he’s too obedient and he should rebel a little more. Yuuri pretends like he doesn’t hear her. It has nothing to do with his coach and everything to do with his skating. 

Minako-sensei brings him back to his hotel room at a respectable eight o’clock and they spend the next hour and half watching the rest of the skaters perform. Yuuri knows Minako-sensei would have preferred to stay in the arena and watch them live but he doesn’t apologize for it again since she won’t accept it. 

She sends him off to bed, insisting his mother would scold her if she didn’t make sure he was safely tucked in for the night, and Yuuri hides his face in his hands because he’s an eighteen year old adult, not a child. But he also know that Minako-sensei won’t leave until he’s in bed proper so he hurries to get ready and sure enough, she waits until he’s actually in bed and the lights are out to leave.

Despite his exhaustion, he stays up late, tossing and turning on his bed as Minako-sensei’s words repeat through his head. He’s watched enough competitions to know that a bad short program doesn’t automatically disqualify one from the podium. It makes the journey there harder, but it’s nowhere near impossible, especially if the other skaters make enough errors. 

When morning comes, he’s still nervous, but something of an edge has been taken off. He won’t win gold and he probably won’t win silver, but he still has a chance to get bronze and the only way he’ll get it is if he skates with everything he has. And that has always been his plan. 

Yuuri doesn’t say anything as he stretches, waiting for his turn, and when he gets up to head to the rink, Tanaka-san waits a moment before taking his skate guards so that Yuuri is forced to meet his eyes.

“If you need to lower the difficulty of your jumps, do it,” he says. 

Yuuri nods but he can’t hide the sour look on his face. Tanaka-san is trying to be kind in his own way. But it’s one of Yuuri’s least favorite sentences to hear right before he goes to skate. He knows he’s nervous, he knows he’s not in a favorable position to win, but that doesn’t mean he should just roll over and give up. 

He can still redeem himself here. Yuuri takes a deep breath as he steps onto the ice and pushes himself forward. Maybe he can’t win but he can still skate.

It hits him as he goes into a sit spin that he doesn’t really have a theme for the year. Oh sure, he’d said something about growing stronger and doing his best, but those had been empty words. A good sounding sentence that everyone would nod their head at and approve. But he’s been consumed with worry, thick enough that it sits on him like a second, heavy skin, about crossing the senior threshold. 

If anything his theme is his ever growing fear that he has no right to be here on the ice.

He’s competing against people with years of experience and skills. Now, if he’s not really as good as everyone thinks, it’ll show up clear as the lines on the ice. 

Yuuri tries to push the thoughts out of his mind and it helps a little as he turns into his steps; Minako-sensei says the judges and fans have always loved his step sequence and Tanaka-san seems to agree that it’s a strength of his. It’s easy to lose himself in the story of the skating and the music on the ice. 

Because in the end, he does want to become stronger, and he wants to win so badly that it makes his vision blur and his heart race. But most of all he wants to skate and as anxious as he is, there's no place he'd rather be than right here on the ice, locked in competition with the rest of the world.

He knows he’s flagging, that his spins aren’t as tight as they usually are, that his movements could be so much sharper, and he’s not lifting his leg high enough on his camel spin. None of his jumps are perfect and even his usually reliable triple toe loop has him barely sticking the landing. 

But he’s here and he wants to push himself to reach the top. Yuuri steels himself as he glides across the rink to gain momentum and pushes off the ice, turning his last jump, a triple salchow into a quadruple even though he falls. Of course he wasn’t going to make his landing with such a terrible take off but he can’t let this be the end. 

He gets up in time to finish the rest of the program, the cheers of the crowd echoing in his ears even though he doesn’t deserve the praise. Not yet, he needs to train so much more to really be worthy of their admiration, and he’s nowhere near that.

Tanaka-san is giving him a strange look, as if he’s not sure how to respond to Yuuri’s impromptu decision there at the end. Yuuri can’t explain it in words but in the deepest part of his heart he had to try for the quad. Everyone needs to know that he’s still going to try, that he doesn’t want to quit, and that he’s going to get better.

They don’t speak as they sit on the bench. Yuuri stares at his hands, clenching them together for a moment then releasing, repeating the pattern endlessly. He doesn’t need to wait for the scores to tell him how his performance went. It’s not enough to get him to the podium but it went slightly better than his short program. 

He looks up at the scoreboard as the commentator calls him name and reads his score. 

“This was your first senior event. It’ll get easier by the time Skate Canada is here,” Tanaka-san says.

Yuuri wants to say he’ll do better next time. Instead he keeps his head down and focuses on walking normally as they leave the kiss and cry. There’s nerves and there’s whatever is going on in his head. It can’t be normal. None of the other skaters act like this. 

But he doesn’t know how to fix it. 

**Worlds Championship  
** Helsinki, Finland  
March 2016 

If Yuri tries hard, he can almost remember there being a junior skater in the entourage at Worlds last year. He’d been focused on beating Katsuki so he hadn’t paid attention to anyone, though Katsuki had taken home his fourth Worlds gold in the end anyway. 

Yakov is getting something sorted out at the hotel’s front desk and Mila shot off after spotting someone she recognized. That leaves him alone with Victor. This time, he can’t ignore Victor, no matter how hard he wants to. The brat is practically floating around and when he comes to a dead stop in front of a poster of Katsuki, Yuri nearly runs into him. 

“I can’t wait to see Yuuri skate in person,” Victor says with a dreamy sigh. 

“You’d better be talking about me,” Yuri says.

“I was talking about Yuuri Katsuki. Obviously.” The stupid look doesn’t leave Victor’s face but it does flicker for a moment so he can shoot Yuri a glare. “I see you skate all the time.”

“I’m Russia’s champion. It’s an honor to skate on the same ice as me. You should be thanking me every time I finish practice,” Yuri says. He knows he’s scowling but it doesn’t seem like it’s worth the effort to paste on a smile. Victor only looks up to him because of a physical height difference. 

“Nope,” Victor says without missing a beat. “Yuuri Katsuki is much more beautiful.”

It’s such a ridiculous way to phrase his feelings, all the more that instead of sounding awkward and creepy, Victor manages to make it seem sincere. Yuri is almost jealous of that ability because all he can do is insult Katsuki to his face. It’s impossible to find words to describe what Katsuki’s skating does to him. Victor could probably manage to say something suitably polite and admiring to Katsuki that would make the man flush in embarrassed pride and Yuri’s scowl only deepens. 

“Katsuki is going to lose this time and then what?” Yuri asks him. 

“Like he lost the last four times?” Victor laughs and flicks a strand of hair out of his face. “I’ll worry about that later, Yuri-kun.” 

“I fucking told you-” 

“Don’t make a scene, Yuri,” Yakov says as returns to he hands them each their room keys. 

“Tell this idiot to stop provoking me then,” Yuri says even as he knows Yakov isn’t listening to him. Victor smiles and twirls a piece of his hair, coy and innocent though surely Yakov has to know by now what a piece of shit he is. Also he’s maneuvered himself so he’s standing slightly behind Yakov and has his suitcase in front of him, as if that would be enough to protect him.

“Victor. Focus on your programs. Same to you, Yuri.” Yakov settles on saying, glaring at the both of them. 

Yuri’s phone rings with a text alert and his pulse starts to race. 

**Katsudon**  
Room 394

He angles his phone away so no one can see since he’s called Katsuki that enough times in public that someone could make the connection. It’s still safer than saving his number under his actual name though. Yuri does use his head once in awhile. 

“Later,” he mutters to Yakov. Let him think that he’s going to his room to sulk. 

He doesn’t give Victor the shit eating grin that he can feel in his soul but it’s a close thing. Victor is a fan but Yuri is Katsuki’s rival. They have pushed one another to perform their best for years. No one can take that away from him, not now and not for the years to come. 

Yuri drops his suitcase off in his room then heads to Katsuki’s. He leans against the hotel door and knocks, trying to seem unconcerned, as if he had totally just been walking by this way. Katsuki won’t fall for it but anyone else passing by would probably be convinced. He hears footsteps and makes sure he’s out of the way so the door can open.

“Hey,” Katsuki says, and he’s all soft and rumpled from his nap. His hair is not wet but it’s slightly damp from the shower. He yawns and moves aside to let Yuri in, eyes flickering to make sure no one else is in the hallway. 

Yuri walks in as Katsuki closes the door behind him, still blinking rapidly to wake up. 

“Ready to lose your title tomorrow?” Yuri asks as he sits down on Katsuki’s bed to kick his socks and shoes off.

Katsuki laughs a little, a thin nervous sound that Yuri hates to hear. He can save it for the interviews when he wants to seem humble. Katsuki has won Worlds for four years in a row. If anyone deserves to brag, it’s him, but he never rubs it in Yuri’s face. 

If Yuri had won he would have made sure everyone knew it. Katsuki would see it in every smile and gesture of Yuri’s and it would make him burn with rage and jealousy. He would struggle the next year to fight for it back but Yuri would keep him in second place where he belongs. Because he’s the best and Katsuki would never beat him. 

“Yuri-kun, I…” Katsuki trails off, staring down at his bare feet. He sits down on the bed next to Yuri but he is too busy wringing his hands to pay attention to him. It’s a nervous habit of Katsuki’s, one of many, and Yuri doesn’t want to see it. Katsuki is the Ice King of Japan, their ace, a four time World Champion, and sometimes, he’s Yuri’s. 

“I’m going to crush you,” Yuri says as he leans over to wrap his fingers in Katsuki’s hair and raise his head so he can kiss him. 

Katsuki doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to kiss him back, and some of the tension leaves him as he gently pulls Yuri down to his bed. 

This is something no one else can have, this Katsuki that only Yuri gets to see, and for the past two years he’s guarded it jealously. Katsuki doesn’t like the press or attention, despite being a repeat champion, and Yuri doesn’t know how to explain it. So they keep it to themselves and say nothing, remaining the hated rivals that the press loves to comment on. 

They are rivals, bitter and locked in combat as Yuri tries with everything he has to knock Katsuki off his spot. But they are also something more. Or maybe they’re something less. Yuri doesn’t know and as long as Katsuki keeps on inviting him and accepting his invitations, Yuri won’t mess this delicate balance. 

There’s no shame, just that inexplicable guard that Katsuki keeps around him, and while Yuri has broken through so many of his walls, this is one he’s not sure he wants to smash down. What lies beyond might be something Yuri has to face seriously. 

Yuri tries to remember how this started, but then decides it doesn’t matter. He’s in Katsuki’s bed and they’re going to fuck and it’s going to be awesome. Then after the short program and free skate they’ll be back here again. And then they’ll do this all over at the Grand Prix Finals next year. It’s not enough but it’s good. They’re too busy training and competitions the rest of the year to meet up for this casual hate filled sex they have. 

Katsuki has an annoying habit of keeping his clothes on for far too long and Yuri makes it his goal to get them both naked as quickly as possible. As always, Katsuki thwarts him by doing stupid and wonderful shit like kissing and rutting up against him. Yuri is on top of him, but that means nothing at all when Katsuki is in the mood to play.

“Stop that and take your fucking pants off,” Yuri finally says as Katsuki grinds his clothed cock against Yuri’s bare one. Katsuki is down a shirt but that’s it, while Yuri is completely nude.

“You like it,” Katsuki says with a little gasp in his throat. He does it once more but at Yuri’s growl he laughs and rolls away so he can finish getting undressed. 

Katsuki barely manages to get on the bed before Yuri is on him once more, pressing their naked bodies up against each other, and Yuri moans happily as Katsuki spreads his legs and pushes their cocks together. 

Katsuki always seems to know what he needs. It’s a shame Katsuki can’t be persuaded to visit St. Petersburg during the off season. But he stays in Japan and there’s very little that can get him to leave, Yuri has noticed. 

Also he hates Katsuki so he can’t exactly go around asking him to join him on a vacation like they’re some ridiculous couple. They’re not, they’re rivals, and Yuri absolutely hates him.

“Turn over,” Yuri says and Katsuki obliges, rolling onto his side with his back to Yuri’s chest.

“How do you- oh,” Katsuki says as Yuri slips his cock between Katsuki’s thighs. Katsuki presses his legs together and Yuri nearly comes right then and there. He has to take a moment to remember how to breath. 

“W-wait,” Yuri says as Katsuki begins to push his ass back towards him. 

“Why?” Katsuki asks, turning his head to meet his gaze. 

Yuri kisses him, hard, waiting until Katsuki whimpers to let go. 

“Wasn’t ready to come yet,” Yuri says and Katsuki makes a sound of assent that quickly turns into a pleasured noise as Yuri begins to gently thrust his hips. 

Katsuki reaches back to tangle his fingers in Yuri’s hair, and Yuri lets him, loving the feeling. It’s almost possessive, the way Katsuki keeps a tight grip on him and even when he occasionally pulls the mild burst of pain just reminds Yuri of who he’s having sex with.

He gets to have Japan’s ace in bed the night before Worlds begins. His cock is hard and leaking between Katsuki’s firm thighs and when he pushes his hips forward, Katsuki pushes back against him. And better yet he’s the only person who can take Katsuki apart like this, to break the icy persona he clings so hard to when he’s really just a fucking dork.

“Yuri-kun,” Katsuki moans and it might be Yuri’s favorite sound in the world, to hear his name being called like that. He digs his fingers into Katsuki’s thigh and his hips stutter as he comes. Yuri keeps thrusting for a while, stretching out his climax as his come slicks Katsuki up, then gives a content sigh. 

Katsuki whines a little when he realizes that Yuri has finished and lets go of Yuri’s hair so he can wrap his hand around his cock. Yuri bats his hand away so he can do it. It’s one of his favorite parts about having sex with Katsuki, unravelling him. Yuri licks at his neck, feeling Katsuki shiver; he can’t leave any marks with the short program tomorrow, as much as he’d love to, so he keeps his lips away from kissing him.

“I’m going to beat you on Monday,” Yuri whispers into his skin as Katsuki gasps and moans. Yuri watches for the moment when everything becomes too much and Katsuki goes quiet as he comes. He’s too busy climaxing to speak and it isn’t until he regains his breath that he answers. 

“You’re not,” Katsuki says in a rare tone, composed and certain. 

Yuri freezes and sits up a little, his cock slipping free of Katsuki’s slippery thighs, looking down at him, because this is a Katsuki he usually only sees on the ice. Katsuki’s face is drenched with sweat and flushed, but he’s steady right now. He takes the chance to flop onto his back, chest heaving as he slowly comes down.

“What makes you say that?” Yuri asks. He wants to snarl and shout but instead his voice comes out low and unsure. 

For a moment Katsuki is still then his face scrunches up.

“Eh? You’re always telling me to talk back to you,” Katsuki says, confused. He pushes himself up on his elbows. Yuri moves to the side and sits back on his knees. “I thought you would like it?” 

“That’s not what that was,” Yuri says and there’s that guard up again as Katsuki stares at him with unreadable eyes. He likes to think that he knows Katsuki best out of everyone in this world. But he can’t, not when Katsuki shuts him out like this over and over again. It’s why Yuri usually waits for Katsuki to text him, why he’s always got that fear in the back of his mind that this time will be the last, because he has no idea what’s going on in that head.

How can Yuri hope to entertain him when he can’t even beat him consistently? 

“Oh. Sorry.” Katsuki says and it’s not an apology. Not at all. He seems to think it suffices though because he smiles at him. “Do you want to use the shower first?” 

“Whatever,” Yuri says and he gets up to grab his clothes, shoving them on. 

“Yuri-kun?” Katsuki calls out but Yuri ignores him as he forgoes his socks. 

Yuri reeks of sweat and fresh ejaculate but right now all he wants is out. He looks like he just had sex but whatever, Yakov can yell at him all he wants to about his image. It’s a good look for him, his fans will say, and it’s not like they’ll ever get the answer of who the lucky person is. 

Yuri closes the door behind him and carefully does not sigh. It isn’t until he gets to his room that he finally lets himself groan as he faceplants into his bed. He doesn’t have time to think about Katsuki’s weird moods or strange words. Worlds begins tomorrow and this is the year he’s going to beat Katsuki and take his place as the top figure skater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated. Holy shit they are appreciated so much. Please enjoy your smut and thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to lazuliblade, so you want to watch fs, and the figure skating ask for all your research and hard work. Anything that is wrong is all on me and you are all welcome to point out my errors.
> 
> Updated the summary! 
> 
> All oc names are coincidences, all the songs are made up, and all the points are ridiculously straight up bullshitted.

**Worlds Championship  
** Helsinki, Finland  
March 2016 

“What do you want from this year, Yuri?” Yakov asks him when they first start training for the new season. 

“To win,” Yuri says, because that’s always his answer. He wants to win everything that he possibly can because he’s the best. Katsuki thwarts him at the Grand Prix Final and Worlds every year but he has the European Championship and Nationals Gold to comfort him. It doesn’t soothe him but it would make him angrier to lose so he forces himself to still count those wins.

“No, you’re not listening.” Yakov says. “Listen. What do you want?” 

Yuri doesn’t even have to think about what Yakov is asking. He sets his jaw and looks down at Yakov dead in the eyes. 

“I want to beat Katsuki. I want gold at the Grand Prix Final. I want gold at Worlds. I want to destroy all his records.” 

“Can you do that?” 

“Yes I can-”

“Can you do that as you are now?” Yakov asks and there’s a cold fire in his eyes. Yuri remembers the last time he saw it, when he was quickly out growing his small frame and ballerina like movements. 

He’s hyper aware of his broad shoulders and all 182 centimeters of his height for the first time in years. Yuri swallows because reinventing himself back then had been torture. It’d been the best kind of pain but it hadn’t amounted to anything because Katsuki was still beating him. 

He’s not sure if he’s ready to do it again. 

Yuri hates with every fiber of his being that he’s always second best to Katsuki. The answer should be simple. He should have already torn himself apart multiple times in his drive to get to the top of the podium.

Yuri could do it still.

But if he breaks himself down will Katsuki like how he rebuilds? He’s afraid of the answer and he’s terrified that this is the question that stops him from striking the match to set himself ablaze for victory.

Yakov waits for an answer. 

“I don’t know,” Yuri murmurs.

“Figure it out,” Yakov says. He doesn’t need to say that there’s a time limit. They need to know who Yuri Plisetsky is before they start designing costumes, choreographing routines, and practising programs. 

He thinks back to the Yuri who had first stepped on the ice, all those years ago as a little boy in Moscow, proudly telling his grandfather about how his lesson had gone. Then to the Yuri who had left home behind for St. Petersburg and the fierce competition of the junior figure skating circuit; he’d been alone back then but he’d been too exhausted from training everyday to cry too much about it. He remembers hoping for a brilliant senior debut only to be crushed by Katsuki’s first golden year. 

Then four years ago Katsuki’s reign and chokehold had begun and Yuri can’t breathe for a moment. It seems like he has his answer but then he remembers after the competitions, when it’s just Katsuki and him, flushed and bare with one another. 

He wants to win so badly. 

But he can’t destroy everything that he is. 

Lilia would be disappointed though he hasn't been coached by her in years. She sends him congratulations when he wins, condolences when he places anything lower than gold. He keeps all the cards in a messy pile in his drawer, letting his shame mix with his pride, because it’s too much effort to sort it out otherwise. 

He likes that her standards are so high. But he can’t forget how eager she was to have him break so she could remold him in her image.

Yakov lays a heavy hand on his shoulder, jostling him a bit, and Yuri has to assume that he’s been calling his name. It’s easy to tune Yakov out after years of it so he doesn’t feel guilty; easier still to ignore the audience, the lights, the tense atmosphere of the competition. He steps onto the ice and still a bit lost in his daze, pushes himself forward.

Yuri loops around the rink, looking up at the crowds who are roaring with cheers for him. He drinks in the shouts of his name and the good luck calls.

‘I am enough,’ he thinks as he takes his starting position, legs spaced apart in a strong stance and arms outstretched before him, ready to move.

His short program entails everything he is, his strength and passion but mostly his desire to win. Yuri has fought and worked so hard for the gold and it has eluded him for almost five years now all because of Katsuki. _Stormfront_ should be enough to secure his win but he hadn't succeeded at the Grand Prix Final. 

After that loss Yakov had agreed to add a second quadruple salchow and a quad toe loop in the second half of the program. He can't beat Katsuki through presentation and choreographic scores so he's going to have to up his technical difficulty. Maybe that's not truly beating him in the sense that Yuri wants but he's been denied his victory for so many years now. 

He flies through his step sequence, the guitar and drums guiding his sharp steps and turns. So what if he can’t paint pretty pictures like Katsuki? He’s a force of nature on the ice and it’s time the world recognizes that with a gold medal. 

Yuri lets the drums guide his skates, focusing on the steady beat as he waits for the right note to rise in a quad toe loop. He lands it perfectly in sync and grins at the reaction of the crowd on his well executed jump. 

This is where he belongs and this is how it should always be. 

For a moment he wants to sink to his knees and just catch his breath but instead he wills himself to stay upright so he can raise his arms above to accept the accolades of his audience. 

Adrenaline and excitement carry him to the kiss and cry and he takes his chance to drop onto the bench. No one, not even the most eagle eyed of fan, will be able to see just how much that program demanded of him. 

Yakov is yelling something but it’s a distant sound; even his bear hug is fuzzy and faded. The score reads 99.02 and Yuri can’t breathe for a moment before his face splits into a grin. Sound and sensation come rushing back to him and he embraces Yakov back.

He’s beaten his old world record by a point and a half. This is going to be his year. 

**Worlds Championship  
** Saitama, Japan  
March 2014 

Ripping his heart out would be easier than watching Katsuki take the gold for the third time at Worlds. Yuri is to his left this time, bronze the best he could scrape up. 

The medal is pulling him down, choking him, and he rips it off the moment he steps off the podium. If he could toss the stupid piece of shit he would but instead he hands it to Yakov and mutters a request to hold onto it for him. 

Yakov keeps a close eye on Yuri all night to keep him from bolting. The bronze medalist and supposed pride of Russia needs to stay in attendance at the banquet. Now that he’s twenty one he can’t blame his behaviour on teenage antics anymore. Those days are long gone as is the fickle fairy persona he had commanded at the time. 

He nurses a single glass of wine all night because he’s not in the mood to play this game. Anyone with half a brain steers clear of him and Yuri can already hear Yakov’s lecture about being polite to sponsors and competitors. But it’s all pointless if he’s not wearing the gold around his neck. 

After an hour Yakov dismisses him with a implicit glare, disapproving and lecture promised for later if he accepts, but Yuri pounces on the opportunity all the same. Anything to be out of here where people are fawning over Katsuki. He just wants to be away. 

Yakov stays for Mila, who did not place at all on the podium but still seems content somehow with her fifth place finish. It’s repulsive but Yuri doesn’t say anything to her; it’s not like she would listen to someone who barely medaled. He certainly wouldn’t. 

But it does mean that he won’t run into anyone he knows while he’s out and there’s some relief in that. 

Yuri meanders around, aimless and hoping the simple act of walking will settle him. It does the job but if he were to have just gone into his room he's sure he would have started breaking something. 

He leaves the hotel and wanders around town for a bit, the cool night air helping to clear his mind. He's lost Worlds again. It's the third time in a row and Katsuki is making history while Yuri struggles to keep up. He can't even think about gold at this rate. 

When he goes back inside, body cold but mind relatively put together, he's ready to face Yakov’s lecture. But it's Katsuki that Yuri spies in the hallway as he makes his way to Yakov’s.

Yuri watches as Katsuki enters what's probably his room. 

He goes up to it and stares for a moment. 

Then Yuri kicks at his door instead of knocking because fuck this all. Why can’t he win? Katsuki started off so piss poor and now he’s here at the top. What changed that let him become such an unstoppable force? Yuri needs to know but mostly he just needs to figure out a way to scream at Katsuki that his free program was everything that Yuri wanted to skate, to embody and how in the world does Katsuki manage to do that? 

It’s always such a ridiculous mix of envy, admiration, and loathing but that’s what Katsuki inspires in him. Katsuki is not like everyone else, where they fit neatly into relationship boxes like family, competitors, or fans. No, Katsuki shatters those compartments of Yuri’s life almost as easily as he breaks record after record.

Katsuki opens the door. He blinks a little, sans glasses Yuri notes, and then frowns. 

“Were you kicking my door?”

“I fucking hate you,” Yuri says, and he wishes Katsuki could understand Russian so he could spit his words at him properly. 

“Yuri-kun, I-” 

He doesn’t want to hear it. That nickname means everything to Yuri and nothing to Katsuki, but that doesn’t stop Yuri from being a horrible, jealous piece of shit. He wants the gold medal around his neck. Katsuki was better this time around but it’s been years now and Yuri aches to win. 

It’s a terrible idea to kiss Katsuki right now. But it’s a good way to shut up and an even better way to try to explain the enormity of what Yuri feels towards him. Because he cannot find either the words or the motions on ice to describe what Katsuki means to him.

Katsuki’s eyes are wide open and he’s shocked but all Yuri can think about is what a good look that is on him. Yuri closes his eyes and tries to get some kind of response out of Katsuki that isn’t just surprise. Katsuki doesn’t do anything to the tongue in his mouth but after a moment he realizes what’s happening.

“W-what-” Katsuki stammers when he finally manages to push Yuri away. His hands are still holding onto Yuri’s arms though and Yuri doesn’t say anything, letting Katsuki dig his fingers into the meat of his forearms. 

“No, fuck you, shut up,” Yuri says and kisses him again. 

Katsuki responds better this time, his tongue sliding into Yuri’s mouth, and he doesn’t bother to hide his appreciative moan. Yuri wants to hear it again, he wants more, and he starts to press his body up against Katsuki’s as much as he possibly can. 

It’s Katsuki who actually starts to grind his leg against Yuri’s groin and the pleasure that spikes in him causes Yuri to pull away so he can wordlessly groan out how good it feels.

“Come here,” Katsuki says in a low tone, his voice dark and heady and Yuri nearly trips over himself as he follows Katsuki into his room. The door shuts behind them with a soft click and Yuri watches as Katsuki drops some of the tension in his shoulders now that they’re no longer in public. 

But then Katsuki is pushing him up to the wall, struggling to get his shirt off him, and Yuri semi-fights it because he wants Katsuki’s clothes off too. They break apart so they can both strip, Yuri beating Katsuki by a second and he is barely able to wait for that moment before dragging them both onto his bed. He’s on top of Yuuri Katsuki and Yuri takes a moment to drink in the sight of a naked Katsuki with a quickly hardening dick.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” Yuri says in his ear and Katsuki smirks up him. 

“No, you’re not,” Katsuki says and Yuri wants to wail because goddamn when did this stupid Pork Bowl get hot? 

Yuri lets it happen, he tells himself, because the alternative is to admit that Katsuki flips their positions. Yuri tosses his hair out of his face and tries to maintain some control.

“Don’t be scared, Katsuki,” Yuri taunts but then Katsuki gives a soft laugh. 

“Why would I be scared?” he asks as he settles in between Yuri’s legs, his hands ghosting across his thighs and Yuri gives a sharp shiver.

Yuri isn’t new to this and neither is Katsuki, judging by the way he takes Yuri’s half hard cock into his mouth. Despite himself, Yuri can’t hold back his shout of surprised pleasure as Katsuki swallows his cock down. His hand is right there too, grasping and stroking where his mouth can’t reach. Katsuki moves off for a moment so he can lap at the head of his penis, his tongue getting into everywhere from his slit all the way to the underside. There is no part of it that he misses, especially when Katsuki leans up to press a demanding kiss so that Yuri can taste himself. 

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Yuri says and Katsuki nods. His hand plays with the tip of Yuri’s cock for a bit, getting his fingers wet and sticky.

“It is, isn’t it? We should have showered first but some asshole didn’t give me a chance,” Katsuki says as his fingers dig into Yuri’s ass, spreading his cheeks. 

Yuri likes it, how rough Katsuki is speaking and how harshly he treats him while never being malicious. He groans as Katsuki gropes at his ass and plays with his hole

Katsuki looks at him for a moment, contemplating something, then slides his finger inside before Yuri can even hope to ask what that was about. He goes slow, his only lubrication Yuri’s precum and it’s enough to make Yuri throw his head back and whine. Katsuki is filthier than he had thought and it’s turning him on so much.

His fingers are too gentle and Yuri pushes back against them. He doesn’t want to make love, he wants to scream and draw blood, and if he can’t take the gold medal from Katsuki then he’s going to have this instead tonight. 

“Hurry up and fuck me,” Yuri snarls and to his delight Katsuki nods. 

There’s a click and Yuri doesn’t care if it’s proper lube or lotion, he just wants Katsuki to fuck him and he makes his opinion well known. Katsuki digs his fingers into the thick of Yuri’s thighs to shut him up. It works in the sense that he’s briefly surprised into silence but he doesn’t actually stay quiet for long. 

“You are so…” Katsuki starts to say as he lines up his dick and starts to push. He doesn’t finish his sentence and Yuri honestly can’t bring himself to care. 

He’s on his back with Yuuri Katsuki’s cock inside of his ass and Yuri holds back his pleasured whines. 

Katsuki only thrusts for a few moments before he mutters something and then he’s pulling out. Yuri doesn’t get a chance to complain because Katsuki flips him over so that he lands on his stomach. 

“Oh god yes,” Yuri says as he gets up on his hands and knees. 

Katsuki slides back in, driving his cock into Yuri hard enough to make him cry out. He wasn’t expecting this, to be turned over and used so harshly, because as cold and selfish as Katsuki is, he’s also so very kind and cowardly. There’s nothing gentle about Katsuki’s grip on his hips or the way he drives himself into Yuri’s ass. 

He’s giving back as good as Yuri gave him and Yuri moans at the realization. He tries to touch himself but Katsuki notices and twists his arm behind his back, forcing his face into the pillow. His surprised gasp is muffled.

“I didn’t say you could get yourself off, Yuri-kun,” Katsuki pants and Yuri cries out. Katsuki slows down so that he can lean over him, every inch of his chest pressed up against Yuri’s back with his cock still hard inside of him and whispers into his ear. “Not until I’m done, got it? I don’t know what you were looking for when you came here but you’re not coming until after I do.” 

“Fuck. Fuck you. You fucking piece of shit,” Yuri manages to say then Katsuki moves away. He can’t even hump the mattress, Katsuki has his hips in such a tight grip and then he’s pounding away again, the sound of skin against skin far louder than Yuri’s suppressed gasps and moans. 

Katsuki lets go of his arm and his fingers dig into Yuri’s hips hard enough that his blunt nails are going to leave crescent marks. He comes inside of Yuri, groaning as he keeps thrusting, and Yuri wants to push him off so that he can come too. Instead he pushes his hips back until Katsuki leans back over him and takes his cock in his hand. 

It only takes a few seconds for Yuri to finally, finally climax and he shivers when Katsuki lets go and pulls out of him. He doesn’t have enough energy to move away. It’s easier to fall down on top of his own come, to lie there trembling with Katsuki’s come slipping out of his asshole.

Katsuki is just on the other side of the bed, also breathing heavily, running his hand through his sweat slicked hair. Yuri pushes himself up a little so he can see because he, like most of the world, thinks that Katsuki should keep his hair like that more often. 

They make eye contact and Yuri freezes. The moment is over and they’re both naked, post-coital, and Yuri swings between regret and terror. This was a horribly wonderful and terrible idea. Katsuki sighs and drops his hand so that it lands on his stomach, drawing attention to his spent cock. 

“Yuri-kun, I-”

Yuri stands up and picks up his clothes in silence. He uses the nearest blanket to wipe himself down. He’s halfway through getting dressed when Katsuki sits up and looks at him. 

“Congrats,” he says to Katsuki’s unreadable expression. 

There’s no reaction and Yuri wants to rush out of the room but he takes his time dressing so that Katsuki doesn’t see how nervous he is. Unlike how he entered, he closes the door behind him so that it doesn’t make a sound.

Yuri doesn’t even make it to his room. Instead he winds up on the stairs since the elevator is full and he keeps his hood over his head as he stares off at nothing. 

He just had sex with Yuuri Katsuki. How the hell does he get into these situations? For a moment he understands how Yakov feels then he pretends like he never thought that. 

Yuri touches his hips through his leggings; he’s going to have some spectacular bruises though he might be able to pass them off as falling from his jumps today. He huffs out a laugh then finds he can’t stop. The sound rolls out of him and he’s vaguely thankful that no one is around, though anyone who does try to take the stairs will probably ditch them once they hear his crazy laughter.

“What the fuck,” he whispers once he’s done. 

God, the next Grand Prix Final is going to be so fucking awkward. He would get himself into something as ridiculous as having sex with his rival.

**St. Petersburg, Russia  
March 2012**

At the time no one is aware that this year marks the beginning of a four year winning streak for Yuuri Katsuki. Victor watches as Yuri Piletsky returns to the rink the day after his return to Russia, heartbroken at his second place finish at the World Championship, and Victor just thinks that he would be so honored to place silver to Yuuri’s gold. 

He wants to ask Yura what it’s like to skate with Yuuri but Yura doesn’t play with the junior skaters. Sometimes Victor wonders if he even notices anyone other than Yuuri. The other skaters keep their distance from Yura and Victor follows their example; he knows the pain of failure and while silver might not be losing for most people, it is for Yura. 

The season is over but the other skaters are getting ready for ice shows and exhibition skates. Victor can’t wait until that’s him, because all he wants to do is skate. His classmates don’t understand that but Yakov is already talking to his parents about private tutors so that he can spend more time on the ice. 

It’s his dream to skate on the same ice as Yuuri though he’s only eleven so he still has a few years to go before he’s even eligible to skate in the senior division. For now he has to focus on the junior skaters but none of them are Yuuri Katsuki. 

Yakov yells at him for not taking his competition seriously but it’s not that Victor considers them lessor. It’s just that his sights are set so much higher. He’s going to skate with Yuuri. And then he’s going to beat him. But mostly he’s going to skate on the same ice as him.

Victor stops after his spread eagle and shakes his head. Yuuri always makes it look so elegant but it doesn’t feel like the right move at this part. He sighs and goes over to the barrier where he has a notebook, rewriting and editing. 

Right now he doesn’t have enough experience to choreograph for himself but he gets around that by not telling anyone what he’s doing. If no one knows then nobody can tell him to stop and Victor can keep on testing out new ideas. 

It’s almost as much fun as imitating Yuuri’s routines. No one but Yakov pays attention when he does it, though that might be that without the triples and quads, it’s harder to recognize. He’s a little surprised Yura hasn’t noticed but that just confirms that he doesn’t watch the junior skaters.

Victor steps off the ice for a bit to watch Yura skate. The other junior skaters all admire Yura but it’s hard for Victor to pay attention to him when Yuuri is just so much better. Victor hears everyone else gasp as Yura lands a perfect quadruple salchow. Yuuri’s quads aren’t as consistent as Yura’s, Victor is obsessed not stupid, but Yuuri evokes such emotion. No matter how impressive Yura is, he can’t capture Victor’s heart and soul like Yuuri does. 

Victor watches as Yura goes for another quad sal, wincing when he falls this time; Victor hadn’t caught what went wrong that time. It’s another reminder of how far he still has to go. 

“Fuck off,” Yura yells when he notices everyone is watching him after he falls a second time. Everyone disperses but Victor watches him for a moment more. 

Yura is too loud and rude but Yuuri is so polite and gracious. Even if Yuuri doesn’t take photos with his fans or sign autographs outside of events, which Victor does get irritated about even though he would never be able to go to any of the Japan based signings. 

He has to settle for posters and magazine clippings but a fan has gotta do what he can. 

Victor goes back to his own program, wishing he could share with someone, but the other junior skaters only see the high potential Yakov has in him. He’s competition first and Victor second.

“What were you skating out there?” Yakov demands when he finally makes it around to Victor. There is no rest for the wicked and Yakov drives himself as hard he does his athletes. The off season doesn’t mean any of them get to wax fat and lazy. “That wasn’t either of your programs.” 

“Nope,” Victor says. He raises his foot to scrape the ice off his blade. “I was improvising.” 

“Improvising,” Yakov repeats, his tone blank. It’s the calm before the storm, or in this case, possible eruption. 

“I want to choreograph for myself next year,” Victor says cheerfully. He doesn’t flick ice at Yakov because he doesn’t have a death wish but the thought strays across his mind.

“You are not-” Yakov says, and yup, his face is turning red already, “-going to mess around with your career like this.” 

He’s being a cheeky junior but Yakov can’t scare him off. Victor is going to be at the top of the skating world someday. 

“I’m hurt, Yakov,” Victor says, pressing his hands to his chest. It’s probably the wrong thing to do because he is being serious. 

Yuuri choreographs most of his own routines. He even has songs commissioned one in a while though they tend to be for his exhibitions. But when Yuuri gets to choose how he moves and dances, it’s easier to see his soul on the ice.

It’s obvious to Victor since he’s watched every single Yuuri Katsuki performance he could get a hold of. He can’t read Japanese for the life of him but he’s got a few keywords faithfully preserved to make searching for obscure videos easier.

“Well, if I can’t create my own program, can I skate a quad? I bet I could land a quad toe loop if I-” 

“I have told you a dozen times, you idiot boy, that quads are off limits to you while your body is still developing,” Yakov shouts but it’s almost anti-climatic with how easy it is to rile him up to this point.

Victor pouts but flips his shoulder length hair over his shoulder as he skates away because Yakov hates when he does that.

Victor closes his eyes for a moment, the image of Yuuri with the World Gold medal seared into his mind. He raises his hands and sets about doing a modified version of Yuuri’s winning free program; one day soon he’ll be able to match the triples and quads to do it properly. But even without the technical skill he can still try to match his movements to the music. 

In the end though he’s just a pale imitation. If he wants to impress his idol, if he wants to beat him one day, then he’s going to have to find his own way. But for now, as he mimics Yuuri’s movements, this is enough to fill his heart.

**Kii Academy University, Japan  
April 2007**

It’s not Yuuri’s first time away from home but this isn’t a competition or visit. This time he’s here to stay and train. Yuuri bites his lip as he consults his university map and tries to find the rink he’ll call home for the next four years. He can already tell it won’t be like Ice Castle; Kinogakuin University has the money to afford a larger and better rink for its competitive skaters. A sleepy, dying town like Hasestu is blessed to even have somewhere to skate. 

He’s always been aware but now the reality is shoved into his face. 

Yuuri finally makes it to the arena and he takes a few minutes to boggle at the size of it. It’s one thing to read online about how it can seat more than five hundred people and quite another to see it in person. This is going to be his new home rink and Yuuri doesn’t even pretend that the cold sweat he breaks out into is because of anticipation. He’s going to be expected to win, training in such high class facilities. 

No, everyone already thinks that, because his friends, family, and country all seem to consider him some sort of genius when he’s anything but. Now they’re going to demand wins and interrogate him when he inevitably fails. Somehow he has made it this far without anyone calling him out on being an obvious faker.

He stands in front of the building for a few minutes, pacing back and forth, oblivious to the concerned stares he’s getting from the other students and visitors. There’s still to run back home to Hasestu; Mari didn’t go to university and no one made a big deal about that.

Yuuri can stay in Hasetsu and be very content there, he knows that. Mari certainly has no plans to move out and she’s happy. His parents would love to have him around and they ultimately will support him if he chooses to go back. 

They always do. His grip tightens on his bag strap. They don’t understand figure skating even after all these years but they know he loves it. And while they expect trophies and medals from him they still try to serve him katsudon when he returns home in disgrace and empty handed. 

He takes a deep breath and rushes inside before he can change his mind.

Yuuri stops in place and gasps when he sees the massive rink. Some of his worries slip away because he wants to skate right now. He can already feels himself gliding across the expanse of ice and though he can see the finite edges, he knows it will feel like he’s skating forever. 

“Katsuki Yuuri.” 

The sound of his name jolts him out and brings some of his worries back as his new coach Tanaka-san approaches him. Yuuri stands still, unsure of what to do. Tanaka-san welcomes him but the words blur together until Yuuri realizes he’s supposed to answer back.

“T-thank you for taking care of me,” Yuuri says as he bows. 

“Work hard and you’ll do well,” Tanaka-san says. 

Yuuri nods, probably a little over excited and eager to get onto the ice but hard work has never frightened him. He’s no genius and if he has to try a jump a hundred over only to fall ninety nine times, he’ll do what it takes. 

Tanaka-san explains the hours and while he doesn’t give him a tour, he does point out some of the basics like where the locker rooms and bathrooms are. He’s about to turn to one of the other students so they can give Yuuri a proper tour but Yuuri stops him, insisting he’d rather skate right now. 

Yuuri’s not familiar with Tanaka-san yet but it seems like a good answer, because Tanaka-san almost smiles at him and leaves with a reminder of the rink’s closing hour. 

It’s easy to tune out everyone chattering and pointing at him when the ice is calling him to skate. Normally the attention would cause him to panic but right now, he just wants to move. 

For a few moments, as Yuuri laces up and hits the new rink, his senior debut doesn’t loom over his future but beckons as bright as the glare from the ice. 

**Worlds Championship  
** Helsinki, Finland  
March 2016 

_Garden in Sunlight_ is not Katsuki’s usual choice of music though it’s still very much in his style and expression. Katsuki’s pieces are often more somber and thoughtful, a strange melancholy to them that Yuri can’t quite put his finger on. They’re never entirely sad, more like a bittersweet air that no one can ever get enough of. 

But here, as Katsuki spins to the upbeat tune, there’s a bright joy to him that Yuri wants to watch forever. Katsuki loves skating, the ice, and that adoration rings throughout every breath in this program. But it’s never been more clear than now that it’s the last time he performs this piece for the season, and Yuri’s chest aches because this is a feeling he shares. It makes him want to rush out onto the ice to join Katsuki and skate right now, championships and medals be damned. 

Katsuki makes it look so simple but often in the madness of the competition year, Yuri forgets that he genuinely enjoys skating. He’s been reminded of that every time Katsuki skates this piece. Maybe that’s why he feels this year will be his; he can’t forget that this is what he loves.

Every step, jump, and gesture is perfect. Katsuki is skating clean this time and if Yuri wasn’t absolutely entranced he would be worrying about his own placement right now. 

But Katsuki enters his step sequence, starting with a beautiful back crossover, and Yuri’s attention is caught as always. He’s watched him dance to dozens of songs but he still can’t match or beat what Katsuki brings in these moments. 

Yuri has heard commentators say that Katsuki breathes the music but even now he’s not exactly sure what that means. Yakov tries to explain it, saying that Katsuki moves in perfect sync with the songs but that doesn’t mean anything, because Yuri hits all of his beats when he skates. And whatever beauty Katsuki dances, Yuri can’t even begin to understand it. All he can do is admire it like the rest of the world and try to find another way to knock Katsuki off the podium.

Katsuki goes from a choctaw to a hop to a beautiful three turn, head loose and flowing like the rest of his body. He’s absorbed in his skating and there’s a certain peaceful quality that Yuri wishes he could emulate.

Because in the end, he wants to beat Katsuki, not imitate him. 

Yuri’s eyes widen slightly as Katsuki swaps out his quadruple toe loop for a quad salchow and proceeds to nail it. The crowd swells with cheers; they know as well as Yuri how often Katsuki messes this one up. He’s used to Katsuki’s quads being in the second half of the program because somehow he has the stamina to consistently manage it. 

Yuri nods in approval as Katsuki finishes off in a combination spin, head raised to the sky and his hands clasped together in front of his chest, his movements still sharp till the end despite his exhaustion

It’s a shame they only meet up about twice a year since they don’t get to compete in the Grand Prix series due to their high placements. Yuri watches all of Katsuki’s performances but it’s never the same as being in the actual rink with him. He can see Katsuki before him in perfect clarity and he knows that Katsuki won’t leave the ice while he still has legs to stand on.

Katsuki makes his way to the kiss and cry, Celestino there to greet him, but for once, Katsuki doesn’t seem nervous. He’s relatively calm as he chats with his coach and Yuri frowns at that before Katsuki is usually jittery and uncomposed as he waits. Most people are though Yuri tends to hide his feelings beneath a scowl and by ignoring Yakov’s scolding or yelling back.

The commentator’s voice rings out and Yuri only hears her say “one hundred” before the crowd drowns out the rest. Yuri whips his head to the scoreboard where it reads one hundred and two point ten in bold, steady numbers.

Katsuki shattered his short program world record. All Yuri can do is stare at the score, jaw dropped, because Katsuki has never skated like that before. Yuri is giving the internet a gif worthy moment but he can’t stop himself. 

The rest of the world is screaming about how Katsuki has broken the one hundred point mark for the short program. 

“Fuck,” Yakov swears softly under his breath and Yuri glances at him, surprise breaking through his unfocused brain fog. 

“Don’t curse,” Yuri says, because being a little shit is something he can always manage like autopilot and Yakov grunts at him. 

“Let’s get the others and return to the hotel,” he says. 

Yuri nods. No one is going to bother interviewing the short program’s second place, not while there’s a shiny new world record to fawn over. It’s a grossly untrue statement but Yuri doesn’t want to deal with reporters asking how he feels about Katsuki breaking his record. 

He’s thankful Yakov understands and even more so that Yakov lets him mope in peace. Yuri doesn’t explain that he’s not moping so much as waiting for most people to go to sleep so that he can confront Katsuki. It’s nearly ten thirty when he finally leaves his hotel room, hoping Katsuki is still awake; he’s always been something of a night owl.

Yuri doesn’t send a warning text. If Katsuki has even a gram of brains in his stupid head, he’ll know that Yuri is coming for him. 

Instead he kicks at Katsuki’s door, not caring how loud he’s being or how the sound echoes down the hallway. Katsuki opens the door, his look an interesting expression between surprise and expectancy.

“What the fuck was that?” Yuri demands. He doesn’t have to elaborate. 

Katsuki lets him in and he sits down on his bed before saying anything. Yuri stays standing so he can loom over Katsuki.

“I’ve never beaten your short program score,” Katsuki says softly. He smiles a little as he looks down at his hands. Yuri wants to say something but he doesn’t even remotely know where to begin. Before he can figure out something to spit out, Katsuki raises his head and there’s a fierce pride in his eyes. “I tried so hard last year and this whole season but I couldn’t manage it till now.” 

Something in Yuri is beyond pleased that he’s still a challenge for Katsuki, that he saw past the medals and looked to the scores as well which is utterly ridiculous because Katsuki has mentioned this before but it still helps to hear. 

Of course, it doesn’t make anything better, because Katsuki took away the one record Yuri was clinging to. He shifts around as he tries to think.

“People are talking about your retirement again,” Yuri says. He’s been wanting to mention it for years but something in him doesn’t want to hear it. Every year it draws closer for them and any injury could force it upon them in an instant. That’s the background noise of being a competitive figure skater but it’s particularly disgusting to hear about it when Katsuki is involved for some reason.

Katsuki sighs, irritated, and takes his glasses off so he can rub at his eyes. He looks twenty seven for once and Yuri can’t look away; he’s seen Katsuki win and lose, collected and fucked out, impasse and embarrassed, but he’s never seen this expression. He looks exhausted somehow but Yuri has seen that on him and it isn’t the same. But he doesn’t know how else to explain the lines around Katsuki’s eyes or the way his entire face just sinks. 

“They’ve been doing that since I started,” Katsuki says and there’s a note of fury in his voice that Yuri rarely hears. It’s really stupid but he wants to hear it more. Katsuki looks at him, a quick glance that Yuri can’t parse. “I guess they’ll start asking you soon too.” 

“Not until I beat you and tear down all your records,” Yuri says. 

Katsuki laughs in agreement, erasing that confusing expression from before. 

“That’s good,” Katsuki says. “It’s tiring to hear it. I’m glad you don’t have to deal with that.” 

Yuri pauses for a moment to reflect on that, because he honestly can’t recall if he’s ever been asked about retirement. Perhaps his drive to beat Katsuki is so well known it’s taken as obvious that he won’t quit until he’s put Katsuki in his place. 

“Yeah,” Yuri says and he bends down so that he can take Katsuki’s glasses out of his hands and place them gently on the nightstand. 

Katsuki is the one who leans up this time to kiss him though. But after a moment, Yuri turns his face away because as much as he wants this, something doesn’t feel right. 

“Yuri-kun?” 

“You should always skate like that,” Yuri says, unsure of what he actually wants to say. “Like you did today.” 

“I try,” Katsuki says and he’s confused but he’s going along at Yuri’s tempo. The bed creaks as he draws back a little, still in Yuri’s space but there’s enough distance so that Yuri can think. “I haven’t been holding back. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone, especially you.” 

“Good,” Yuri says. He’s never worries about that. Katsuki falls too much, always pushing himself as far as he can, and Yuri is the same way. That’s why he can respect Katsuki as much as he does. As annoying as he is with his constant wins Katsuki is giving skating his everything. 

Yuri kisses him again, one hand on his head and tangling his fingers in his hair, his other hand settling on Katsuki’s chest. It’s good and soft without being hesitant or weak. But then Katsuki breaks away, breathing a little harder, and Yuri almost doesn’t wait for him to speak, he wants to keep kissing him so much.

The back of Katsuki’s neck flushes red in embarrassment and Yuri doesn’t stop himself from dragging his fingers across his skin as Katsuki sorts out what he’s going to say.

“I’m not really...I’m pretty tired after today. But you’re welcome to stay and sleep still? If you’d like?” 

“Just sleep?” Yuri repeats and he sounds as stupid as he feels. 

Katsuki still won’t meet his eyes but he nods. 

“I know you came here for...for something else,” Katsuki says. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah, I get it,” Yuri says, because he does. Katsuki probably poured everything he had into today’s skate. Yuri is also tired but when he’s mad, that tends to buoy him. It’s not the best way to channel his energy but it works for him, as long as he has a safe place to crash down afterwards. 

Katsuki is not only safe but at some point Yuri’s rage has melted away without him even noticing. He has that knack though Yuri doesn’t understand how, when Katsuki avoids interacting with most everyone and so how he developed any people skills at all is a mystery for the ages. 

Yuri kicks his shoes off and climbs into bed, unsure of how to lie down properly; it’s much easier after they have sex because then he’s just a collection of satisfied limbs and loosened muscles. Katsuki doesn’t struggle as much, filling in the space around Yuri and closing his eyes with a satisfied hum as he sinks into the pillows.

“What are you doing tomorrow after practice?” Yuri asks, unsure of where he’s going with this. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. It’s worse than falling on the ice because he knows what to do there, how to turn his body and try to catch himself.

“I don’t know,” Katsuki murmurs, opening his eyes with a lazy blink. “Probably the same thing I always do.” 

Yuri waits for a few moments but Katsuki doesn’t elaborate more. Katsuki does reach over to gently touch Yuri’s arm, fingertips resting against his skin and sending a small hint of want through him.

“What’s that?” Yuri asks before Katsuki can fall asleep. He looks like he’s already there, his breathing is even and calm, eyes gently closed again. 

“Stay in my room and on my phone,” Katsuki says. He gives a soft laugh. His fingers clench a little at the movement and it’s so completely unconscious that Yuri has to tell himself to shut up about being so excited. “I know, I’m boring.” 

It doesn’t sound boring so much as lonely. Yuri doesn’t like some of the other skaters but he gets along with Georgi, disaster that he is and Mila, when she’s not getting on his last nerve. There are others too that he finds it worthwhile to spend time with. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue, to ask Katsuki to come with them tomorrow. They have no plans set in stone but he tends to end up at an early dinner with the other Russian skaters. But instead he says nothing and watches as Katsuki finishes drifting off to sleep. He must have been beyond exhausted to fall asleep so quickly. 

Yuri should go back to his room. Katsuki will never know if he spent the whole night or if he woke up before him and left. It’s better that way, to leave an air of mystery and unknown, because it’s just been sex between rivals. This is something different and it’s all Katsuki’s fault. 

Yuri wrestles with himself for a half hour before deciding it’s too much work to get up. The bed is warm, Katsuki is sound asleep, and he tells himself that it wouldn’t be right to wake him up by leaving. Yuri looks over at him and carefully digs into his pocket for his phone, snapping a picture in the low light. 

Katsuki doesn’t use his instagram or twitter the way they’re meant to be used. He posts a picture maybe once a month on either site. The Thai skater that trains at the same rink has more images of Katsuki in a month than Katsuki himself has ever posted. (Yuri does not follow this Chulanont kid but he has his twitter bookmarked.)

It’s too dark so the photo comes out horrible but he can see what he needs to, Katsuki deep in sleep without any of the worries that usually show on his face when he’s awake. Yuri still smiles at it as he looks from photo to Katsuki. Then he sits up and shoves his shoes on as quickly, harshly, and quietly as possible. This isn’t their usual routine and it’s too dangerous. He can’t understand why Katsuki would suggest this.

Before he can get to his room though he runs into Victor.

“Yakov is looking for you,” Victor says. He’s dressed casual in leggings and a long almost dress like shirt.

“You are the last fucking person I want to deal with right now,” Yuri says, flipping his hood back and shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Victor’s gaze rakes over him then he shrugs. There’s no way he can see anything since nothing fun actually happened this time. Yuri wants to smirk and tell him who exactly he was with. But Katsuki wouldn’t like that. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll go see what the old man wants,” Yuri says and leaves. He’s not going to see Yakov but he doesn’t want to stay stuck inside. Tomorrow is the off day so he can afford to fuck around and sleep in. Yakov will yell at him for missing morning practice but he can deal.

“Mila is looking for you too,” Victor says. “But I think she’s looking for you to tell Yakov.” 

“Are you all his goddamn dogs?” Yuri glares at Victor. 

“I think he’s worried about you,” Victor says. He smiles a little. “I wouldn’t be. You’re used to second place by now, right? You should be able to handle this.” 

“You’re really annoying for being so small,” Yuri says as he draws himself up to his full height. He doesn’t want to show that Victor has hit a sore point but at the same time, he really needs this brat to shut up. Right now he does not have the energy to deal with Victor Nikiforov.

Victor shrugs again. 

“Good night,” he says. “I’ll go tell Yakov I found you. I’ll see whatever is left of you tomorrow.” 

“Fuck off,” Yuri mutters. Whether Victor hears him or not, it doesn’t seem to matter to him, and Yuri grits his teeth. 

If Victor and Mila are out on watch for him, that means everyone else is too, and Georgi is ridiculous enough that he’ll try to drag Yuri there even though there’s no way that’s physically possible. He groans and heads to Yakov’s room. 

Better to get it over with though maybe he’ll be more amenable to adjusting his free program to add in that extra combination jump. He’s going to need every extra point to beat Katsuki now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very appreciated. You are all wonderful about indulging my endless appetite for attention. Thank you so much and I hope you continue to enjoy the fic!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy. This chapter was delayed because a lot of scenes in ch5 were giving me a hard time. But I've finally nailed them down enough that they aren't giving me stress. I meant to update this twice a month but these chapters are getting so much longer. Which is good! I need to learn to write longer pieces.

**Worlds Championship  
** Helsinki, Finland  
March 2016 

It seems obvious that this is going to be Yuuri’s last year of competitive skating when his programs are all about his lifelong love of skating and his gratitude towards everyone who has supported him. Luckily he’s already made his dislike of interviews well known so people aren’t as offended anymore when he rejects their offers or ignores the microphones shoved into his face. People can’t get the question in so Yuuri doesn’t have to deflect so much though it feels more like lying than simple side stepping at this point. 

It drives Celestino absolutely mad, especially now that he has Pichit who navigates social media just as elegantly as he dances across the ice, but Yuuri only has one more competition. Even before Celestino had taken advantage of their plane ride, insisting Yuuri had to answer some questions for reporters if he was going to retire after Worlds, he had resigned himself to the future media storm. 

He’s still not looking forward to it and Yuuri doesn’t hide his despondent sigh as he finishes stretching so he can go watch the other skaters. Celestino hears it and frowns, very aware of what’s going through Yuuri’s mind. They have known each other for around eight years now. 

“Focus on your skating,” Celestino says, nodding towards the ice where a Chinese skater is getting ready to perform. 

Yuuri nods. “I don’t have to say anything today, right? I could get away with-” 

“No,” Celestino says and Yuuri sighs again though this time it’s a little more playful. He already knows he can’t get out of making a proper announcement. “Pichit is going to be angry with us. Furious, really. We agreed I would talk him down and you would handle the rest.” 

“It’s a very unfair deal for you,” Yuuri says with a smile. Reality means Celestino will help him just as Yuuri will still talk to Pichit about his retirement. But normal conversation always calms Yuuri before going out to perform. 

They quiet down as they hear the announcer starts to speak. Celestino nods at the scores for the Chinese skater. He still has Pichit and other students vying for medals. Just because Yuuri doesn’t have to keep an eye out for potential rivals and talent anymore doesn’t mean Celestino can share in that. Not that he would want to; Celestino enjoys coaching and being at competitions like this.

“We’ll have to watch out for that one,” Celestino murmurs. 

The crowd begins to shout good luck calls in Russian and Yuuri perks his head up in time to see Yuri-kun switch from accepting their wishes to focusing on his performance. His outfit glitters gold and red, bright as a flame; there’s mesh winding around his long legs to peek at the soft skin and hard muscle beneath. Yuuri doesn’t bother to hide his appreciative stare at Yuri-kun’s form. Celestino knows it’s a complicated rivalary but he’s not aware of of the more risque aspects; he’ll probably find out soon if Yuuri has any courage left in him after.

“I always say you shouldn’t watch him,” Celestino says, arms crossed and face carefully neutral. 

“Yeah,” Yuuri says because part of him agrees. 

Yuri Plisetsky is amazing, technically skilled to the point of absurdity with talent packed into every inch of his body, and it’s been enough to set off Yuuri’s always present anxieties before. But he has to watch Yuri-kun skate, for so many reasons, and he absolutely can’t miss it today. This will be his last chance to see him this close, after all. If Yuuri goes to watch him again, he’ll have to sit in the arena like the rest of the spectators, because that’s what he’ll be. 

Right now that sounds horrifying but that’s because his heart is ready to skate its last dance. Every muscle and bone wants to move. Later, once this energy has time to dissipate, it won’t seem so daunting. 

“Ah, he’s going to do a third quad,” Yuuri murmurs as Yuri-kun lands a quadruple toe loop. It should have been towards the end of his program. He’s not too surprised; Yuri-kun is much more aware of their scores at any time.

Celestino nods, hands no longer lax but in tight fists. He always wants Yuuri to win, but today he wants it so that they can go out on top. Yuuri would like that too but mostly he wants to be on the ice. Whether he takes gold or misses the podium entirely it’ll be over after today and he’s ready. 

It gives him the chance to enjoy Yuri-kun’s skating in a new way and he watches as Yuri-kun gathers speed for a triple lutz. Yuri-kun’s performances are always bold and mesmerizing. He’s so beautifully proud of himself and his skating, and though Yuuri has gotten better throughout the years at quieting down the part of his brain that tells him he’s worthless, it’s still inspiring to see Yuri-kun skate without any of that fear. 

Lately though Yuri-kun’s urge to win has been overpowering that. But Yuuri doesn’t know how to point that out to Yuri-kun without calling him desperate. And while Yuuri can’t feel guilty for striving for gold himself because that’s the goal of every skater out there, he’s more than aware that his wins are Yuri-kun’s losses. 

Yuuri is a competitive figure skater. It goes without saying that he crafts his programs in order to win and that includes calculating the points. But he can’t forget either that this is a performance and that matters just as much as the base value of his jumps. A quad is the best but a triple with the right emotion is better still to Yuuri. 

Celestino doesn’t always agree with Yuuri’s decisions but he trusts in his instinct; four consecutive World gold medals will do that even though Yuuri has rarely used that to get his way. Celestino points out his record more often than anyone else, out of a mix of pride for his student and a reminder to Yuuri that he is as good as everyone says. 

He doesn’t, can’t, understand that Yuuri is his own worst enemy but he tries; sometimes it’s enough to keep Yuuri’s darker thoughts at bay. Celestino’s faith is a double edged sword for Yuuri but when his anxiety doesn’t get the better of him, he’s beyond touched that he has Celestino’s respect. It helps more than Yuuri can ever verbalize.

Sure enough Yuri-kun finishes with a quad salchow in combination with a triple loop but Celestino just smiles. Yuuri ignores the look to focus on his own program otherwise he’d be saying something. Celestino doesn’t even flinch when Yuri-kun’s record breaking score is announced.

“Go out there and show them what a champion looks like,” Celestino says with a supposed encouraging slap on his back and Yuuri almost chokes. 

“C-Celestino!” 

He’s confident, to say such a thing to Yuuri of all people before sending him off to his penultimate skate. Yuuri toys with the idea for a moment of adding in another quad to match Yuri-kun’s three as he skates onto the ice but he quickly dismisses the thought. Celestino would have suggested it if he thought Yuuri needed a third quad to win.

Yuuri likes having one to two quads in his short program, usually towards the end, to make for a good finale. For the crescendos in the music he prefers spins or step sequences since he’s more comfortable with them. 

_Garden in Sunlight_ is a light and quick song and as he’d been imagining the piece on ice he found himself considering multiple quads for the different crescendos to the varying instruments. If he were more talented there would probably be a quad loop or quad flip in there but jumps aren’t his forte. It’s taken up a lot of ice time to get his quad sal good enough for Celestino to comfortably suggest it for his programs. 

Minako-sensei had actually been the one to bring this song to Yuuri. It had been two years ago when he’d been struggling over his retirement and the inevitability of it.

“I don’t care if you perform this or not, but I’d like to see you dance to it somehow,” she’d said. 

He’d called her out on the lie but she’d shrugged it off with a sly smile. Not even Minako-sensei was enough to make him continue but when he’d sat down to listen to the song he could see what she meant. 

It’s easy to forget how much he loves skating when people are constantly asking him when he’s going to leave it all behind. And Yuuri doesn’t want to. If he could skate forever, compete at this level without worrying about fractures and sprains, he’d do it. But he’s pushing it at twenty-seven, competing against boys a decade younger, and he can’t hold on to his spot at the top forever. 

Yuuri’s story might end but people like Yuri-kun and Pichit-kun will still go on to create new tales and legends. And just because Yuuri doesn’t compete doesn’t mean he has to leave the ice. There are still shows to go to and Celestino has been subtly pushing him towards coaching the younger skaters. Yamaguchi-san, his former choreographer, has dropped hints that he could choreograph too and that she’d be more than willing to show him the ropes. 

Yuuri smiles pushes off the barrier, fighting to ignore the crowd and lights, settling in to focus on _Garden in Sunlight._ He wants to get lost in that indescribable joy for one final time; one last short program, one last chance to beat Yuri-kun’s score, but mostly, one last competition. 

**Grand Prix Final  
** Tokyo, Japan  
December 2009 

“Congratulations,” Katsuki says from his spot below on the podium and he’s smiling at Yuri. 

It’s not the reaction he wants but Yuri still lifts his chin and smirks at Katsuki. This is how they should be, Katsuki in second place and Yuri with the gold. He doesn’t care if the photographers get this moment, if Katsuki’s fans wail about how unsportsmanlike Yuri is being; he’s the one with the gold medal around his neck.

It’s not his senior debut but he’s still a sixteen year old who just won the Grand Prix Final. Yuri looks around at all the old skaters with years of experience on him and his smile is sharp.

He doesn’t say anything more at the moment because there’s nothing that has to be said. Yuri has won and Katsuki has lost. Of course, he’s still placed second, because if he’s going to be Yuri’s rival then he needs to be good enough to be a challenge. But it’s not first place and so it’s a loss. Not even Katsuki can deny that though he’ll have to pretend to be brave for the cameras and sponsors. 

Yuri all but preens under the attention lavished on him at the banquet as people point out how young he is and what a dazzling career he has before him. Yakov is just as proud, calling him ‘Yuri’ as often as he calls him ‘my Yurochka’. It would be annoying any other day but for this night he can’t bring himself to get truly pissed off about anything. 

It takes him a while, long enough that he’s getting annoyed by all the well wishes, to find Katsuki who is actually talking to someone other than his coach. Yuri thinks it’s an ISU official but it’s really not important. He smooths down the front of his dark blue suit and tries to make himself as tall as possible. His gold tie is obnoxious but it’s another reminder that he’s the most worthwhile person in the room.

“Katsuki. How does second place feel?” Yuri asks, shoving his way into the conversation. 

Katsuki blinks at him and glances around, probably for his coach to come and save him. Yuri can almost smell his fear and it’s fantastic. He ignores the other man and moves a little closer to Katsuki.

“Deserved, I guess. Your performance was amazing,” Katsuki says instead of running away. He takes a large drink of what appears to be champagne; Yuri doesn’t know and nobody here will let him have anything good. It’s another reminder of how young he is and he accepts it for tonight.

“Yeah, unlike you, I can actually land my jumps,” Yuri says. If he were taller he could get right into Katsuki’s face.

Katsuki gives a little laugh, as if Yuri said something hilarious, but his eyes are still elsewhere. It’s a shame that Katsuki doesn’t seem to even notice Yuri’s barbs. He’s spent a long time picturing this moment and Katsuki won’t even react. The other guy has left so that’s one good thing at least. He was ruining the moment. 

“You’re very talented,” Katsuki agrees. “I wish I’d had your skills at that age. It wouldn’t have done me any good though.” 

Yuri frowns at that because it doesn’t make sense. 

“I told you I was going to beat you,” he says instead because he has a script to follow here, dammit all. He’s earned this with his blood, sweat, and tears. Katsuki has lost and Yuri is going to enjoy it. Katsuki probably won't cry in jealousy and hatred but it could happen. He’s pretty sure Katsuki just inhaled two more glasses in front of him.

“Yup,” Katsuki says. He pauses to set his empty glass down on a random table and get another from a passing server. “Well, actually, you said you were going to beat me at Worlds and you didn’t. But this is still good, right? I would still count it.” 

Yuri’s jaw drops because this is not at all how this conversation was supposed to go. 

“I’ll beat you this year at Worlds. I’ll beat you every year, because I’m better!” 

Katsuki gives him a thumbs up and for some reason that just pisses Yuri off more. He’s about to grab Katsuki by the stupid face and yell at him when Georgi of all people shows up.

“The man of the hour, Yura! Yakov is asking for you,” Georgi says and Katsuki takes the chance to depart with an entirely too composed smile and another congratulations. He’s not staggering or lurching around so he’s not wasted but Yuri is certain he’s not entirely sober.

“He can wait,” Yuri says, barely keeping himself from cursing out loud. He’s not done with Katsuki, drunk or otherwise. Georgi ignores his protests and keeps a surprisingly firm grip as he leads Yuri away from the banquet table to one of the corners of the room. There is no privacy to be had here but it’s as quiet of a spot as can be found. 

Yuri has to pry Georgi’s arm off from him. Yakov had been very clear on what he had expects from tonight’s attendance and what the penalties are for misbehaving. Yuri doesn’t need to watched after like he’s an infant. He glares at Georgi and makes to go back to finish with Katsuki. 

“You’re not acting very graciously,” Georgi says with a doting tone, as if Yuri is his precious student and it’s his duty as the older one to teach him the ropes when they’re only two years apart.

He doesn’t need to hear anything from Georgi. Russia wouldn’t need to pin its hopes on a sixteen year old Yuri if Georgi was any good. A few silvers here and there isn’t enough to make a champion which Yuri doesn’t hesitate to point out. Georgi just blinks at him, not at all fussed by Yuri’s brilliant and scathing criticisms. 

“Yuri, Yura, you are a child-” 

“You got beaten by a child. How embarrassing.” 

“You are young and you don’t yet realize-” 

“Shouldn’t old people like you just retire then?” 

“You should be kinder,” Georgi says to him with an odd look in his eyes. 

“Ha, yeah right,” Yuri says. He almost giggles at how stupid Georgi is. “I won and you old geezers lost. That makes me the best, right?” 

Georgie sighs and shakes his head but it doesn’t even affect Yuri. There’s a sorrow in his eyes but Yuri can’t figure out why the hell Georgi is sad for him. Yuri won. It’s everything he’s worked for and he’s earned this with his blood and tears. 

Katsuki is nowhere in sight now so Yuri reluctantly shoves him out of his mind and goes to find Yakov. Yuri smiles wide, teeth showing, as Yakov spots him and waves him over to talk to someone. Georgi doesn’t lie but he’s an idiot. This is the start of Yuri’s ascent.

**Worlds Championship  
** Helsinki, Finland  
March 2016 

Yakov promised that _Blutychk Concerto in A Major_ would get Yuri the gold medal at Worlds if he took it seriously. Yuri had scoffed at the idea because figure skating is all that his life revolves around; he has nothing left to give. 

It won him Nationals and Euros, but it hadn’t been enough at the Grand Prix Final. If he’s honest with himself he’s not surprised. He doesn’t understand his free program as well as his short, but that’s because he can’t say that all he wants to do is to beat Katsuki. Even if everyone knows it, it’s something that cannot be said out loud, or he’ll be called obsessive and it won’t look good on him. 

Yuri Plisetsky isn’t desperate. 

He’s eager to win. And he’s been ready for far too long. But Katsuki just won’t fall. 

Yuri watches the current skater on the ice come out of a Biellmann spin. He lost a lot of flexibility when he shot up and it burns a little to see the younger crop of skaters throwing out Biellmann spins and layback Ina Bauers. They’re all encouraged by the Russian Fairy who died in agony as his bones practically locked themselves into place. He doesn’t see it as an homage but he can’t exactly tell them to cut that shit out. 

Yuri might be more flexible than the average person but that means nothing compared to what he was capable of before. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem to miss anything from his own growth spurt and while Yuri wants to ask him, had wanted to ask him back then, he never got around to it. They skate, they fight for the gold, and they fuck. It’s simple and Yuri won’t be the one to screw it up even if as he yearns to know how Katsuki can skate like that. Is it his fear of losing? Or is it his love for the sport? Yuri tells himself it’s both when he’s burning with curiosity but he’s not sure that’s entirely true. 

Yuri nods his head as Yakov tells him to fight for victory and steps out to take his spot in the center of the ice. He stares up at the stands full of people waiting for him to win. Their eager stares and the anticipation fill the air, and as the first notes of the piano start, Yuri moves. 

His triple axel is sloppy but he lands it all the same. Yuri grits his teeth and makes sure that he lands his first quad as cleanly as possible. He has two more to complete and he cannot fail on them. 

He doesn’t go for a third quad as often as he probably should. Katsuki’s TES points are nothing to scoff at but it’s his PCS that gives him his edge above everyone else. Yakov thinks Yuri should stick to two quads max so that he can save his energy for his step sequences and the rest of his program. It’s a rare point that they don’t argue and Yuri would fight it on principle alone but he’s too busy trying to figure out how Katsuki skates like he does. Not even getting into bed with him has solved that particular puzzle though Yuri wouldn’t have suggested the idea to himself even at his lowest.

But he’s probably the person closest to Katsuki and he still can’t figure out what makes Katsuki click. It’s another aggravation Katsuki burdens him with. 

At least his technical score is way above Katsuki’s even if his presentation scores lag dismally behind. If Yuri can’t beat him through PCS then he’ll do it through TES. Either way, he’s going to win Worlds this year, and he’ll beat Katsuki at the GPF next year. 

Yuri finishes and he stares at the scoreboard while he waits, eager for the result. He’s certain he has a good score, probably not record breaking, but he landed all his jumps. His combination jump at the end had been close but he’d made it, even as he was sure Yakov had regretted allowing him to put it back in. 

198.73 flashes onto the screen and Yuri grits his teeth to keep from screaming. He needed it to be higher. Katsuki’s highest free skate score was 205.28 and he tends to shine there. There’s always a chance that he could mess up or fall but Yuri doesn’t want his victory to rest on Katsuki making a mistake. He wants them both skating at their best when he tears down Katsuki’s records.

“You’re not putting that many jumps in your second half next year,” Yakov says and Yuri glares at him. “You got sloppy at the end.”

“Katsuki can do it.” 

“And you can’t,” Yakov says. He doesn’t look at Yuri but he does sigh and scratch at his forehead, his hat bobbing up and down in tandem with the motion. “We’ll talk after. Figure something out.” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Yuri says. 

“Too bad,” Yakov says as he gets up from the bench, expecting Yuri to follow him. “I won’t say any more till we’re back in Russia. Too many ears and gossips. Get up and let’s go.” 

“Yakov, I need-” 

“I don’t know, okay?” Yakov snaps. “So get up, Yuri, or you’ll get left behind.”

He’s talking about the kiss and cry but for a second Yuri thinks he means something else. Yuri obeys at that, partially out of surprise, because Yakov has always had an answer for him. Sometimes it’s just to tell him to shut up but underneath there’s the certainty that Yakov has an answer that he’s just not willing to share. 

He pauses for a moment to see Katsuki waiting for his turn, talking to his coach in low tones. Yuri looks away before Katsuki can feel his gaze on him. He’s in first place for now but Katsuki’s score will decide if it stays like that. 

Yuri dreads Katsuki’s free skate almost as much as he looks forward to watching it.

**Kinogakuin University, Japan  
April 2008**

Yamaguchi-san is late, as always, though she quickly settles down once she finds him at the university cafe. She orders a cup of coffee and takes a few moments to pull her notes out. Working with Yamaguchi-san as a choreographer has been much easier than Yuuri had thought and he’s incredibly thankful for her hard work. It makes him want to apologize for the trainwreck of performances he gave last year but she won’t accept his apologies. 

He supposes it’s that she knows something of failure. Her last year as a figure skater had been riddled with injuries and failures though she had managed to come around to win a bronze at Worlds before her retirement. Tanaka-san spoke highly of her, in that he praised her at all, and Yuuri had been terrified to meet her after seeing her intense focus during interviews and performances when he’d looked her up.

But she’s much kinder in person, growing a little round now that she’s not training and dieting, and after two children. When she smiles, her wrinkles growing more pronounced around her eyes, it reminds Yuuri of his mother. 

And she prefers to meet the skaters in person rather than going through coaches which Yuuri also appreciates. Tanaka-san is dedicated and strict, and he still kind of terrifies Yuuri. 

“Tanaka-san said that you don’t have a theme in place yet but I need to get started since I’ll be choreographing for a movie soon and it’s going to have an ice show as a promotional piece to drum up interest in it,” Yamaguchi-san said, tutting at her dying pen. She tosses it and pulls out a bright purple one with an apologetic shrug in his direction. “If you want an invitation to the ice show, I’d be happy to put one in for you, Katsuki-kun. I know Tanaka-san isn’t a fan of them, goodness knows why, but I’ve always found them to be excellent to participate in.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri says. If Tanaka-san disapproves then he probably won’t join any but he knows Minako-sensei was also disappointed that he wasn’t going to be performing in any shows this summer. Of course, she’s always ready to take a trip to see him perform and as much as he enjoys seeing a friendly face, it’s also a great source of stress to not disappoint her. “I’d have to ask my coach first.”

Yamaguchi-san stares at the people the next table over without looking at them. When her gaze goes back to Yuuri it’s sharp and full of intent.

“Katsuki-kun, if you would permit me a strange question, how do you like training with Tanaka-san?” Yamaguchi-san asks. 

Yuuri doesn’t know how to answer once he’s gotten over his initial surprise. He plays around with his water then shrugs, hoping Yamaguchi-san can’t read his mind.

“He’s a good coach and I’m very thankful-” 

“We’re friends, Katsuki-kun, and I’m asking you for the truth as you feel it,” Yamaguchi-san says. She doesn’t lay a hand on his arm but he senses that she wants to. He draws back a little more and sits up in his chair. 

“I don’t know how to answer that, Yamaguchi-san.” 

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I think it’s a question worth asking.” 

Yuuri shifts around. It’s not his coach that’s the problem but Yuuri himself. And he’s not about to blame Tanaka-san for his inability to calm his nerves down while at competitions. If he can’t land a jump that’s his fault and no one else's. Yuuri can own his failures, bitter as it is to swallow that pill.

“He’s a very talented man and he’s taken many a skater far but perhaps he’s not the right fit for you?” Yamaguchi-san says. She looks down at her notes then back up at Yuuri. “I’ve seen countless skaters and coaches, Katsuki-kun, and there’s no shame in breaking a professional relationship up if it’s not working out for both parties.” 

Yuuri blinks because he’s never thought about switching coaches. He’d only switched because his previous coach Kinomaru left Hasetsu, like so many others before him. Minako-sensei had filled in for that gap year between Kinomaru’s departure and Yuuri’s move to university, where he’d begun under Tanaka-san. 

“I-I don’t know. Yamaguchi-san, I’ve never thought about it.”

“There’s a man I know who works as a coach, and he requests my services often. We’ve worked together for many years now, this Celestino Cialdini and I, and I think he might prove to be a better fit for you. I apologize if I'm speaking out of turn but I think you have the skill to go quite far and I would hate to see it squandered.” 

“N-no, you’re fine, I’m just surprised,” Yuuri says. He knows he’s lucky to have a coach at all. If he doesn’t feel thankful it’s because he’s a selfish human being and again, that’s Yuuri’s fault.

“Celestino is a good man though he has his own style and some can find it strange,” she says. “I wouldn’t suggest someone if I didn’t think they would be better for your career, Katsuki-kun.”

Yuuri shrugs again because he can’t comprehend what she’s saying. He’s not doing well but changing coaches probably won’t change that. It’s up to Yuuri himself to find a solution.

She can tell he’s interested though. 

“He runs a skating club in the United States at a university.” 

“What?” Yuuri can’t help his exclamation. He can’t go to America. Going to study under a coach on another continent is so serious and makes it seem like he’s determined to win.

Yuuri has never lived anywhere but Japan; he had to move for university but he still visits home often during the holiday breaks and to be on the other side of the world is a different feat entirely. 

But he wants to keep skating and right now his placement doesn’t suggest he should keep at it. Maybe a change is what he needs, even if it terrifies him. 

And he does want to win. Yuuri bites that thought down because it’s never in good form to say that out loud. But his losses from this past year burn at him, eating him alive. He needs to get better. 

“Could you tell me more about it after we work on my programs?” Yuuri asks and he doesn’t miss her pleased look.

“Of course. Does this mean I can give you his contact information?” Yamaguchi-san asks. 

Yuuri hesitates then nods. It wouldn’t hurt to hear what the man has to say. A conversation doesn’t mean he’s going to upend his life and he can give Yamaguchi-san that much, since it’s clear she wants him to consider her idea. 

“Wonderful,” she says writing it down on the back of her card and sliding it across the table to Yuuri. His hand is steady as he takes it and slips it into his notebook without looking at it. “Now, for this year, I know you said you don’t like anything too slow for a short program piece but I want you to listen to this version of the song. I heard it and I could see you skating to it.” 

Yuuri takes the headphone and tucks it into his ear, eager to get into the music and choreography. It’s far better than thinking about the terrifying idea Yamaguchi-san has just introduced. 

**Worlds Championship  
** Helsinki, Finland  
March 2016 

“Ready?” Celestino says and Yuuri nods slowly as he stands up from where he’s hunched against the arena barrier to meet his eyes. 

Celestino is the only other person here who knows that this is Yuuri’s last free skate. And though his mouth is smiling, though he’s genuinely looking forward to watching his student perform, there’s mourning in his eyes. 

“Thanks,” Yuuri murmurs as he drops his gaze to the ice, unable to meet his look. “Thank you, Celestino.” 

“None of that,” Celestino says, clapping him once on the back. His hand stays there, a comforting presence. “Go out there and skate. After, we can do the embarrassing coach and student sob, okay?” 

Yuuri muffles his laugh. He skates out to the center with a soft smile on his face, courtesy of Celestino, and he’s well aware that it was intentional. 

_Andante Festivo_ will be his last dance. He hasn’t held back through the Grand Prix series, the Final, Nationals, or Four Continents but tonight will be the finale. Yuuri takes a deep breath and lowers his head to wait for the music. 

For a moment he can hear the people in the stands, the too loud beating of his own heart, the miniscule sounds his blades make as he shifts against the ice, but it all begins to fade away as the violins fill the stadium.

His quadruple salchow is at the beginning to coincide with the crescendo of the strings and when Yuuri lands the jump with a sharp and clean sound some of his panic vanishes. He doesn’t need to be perfect. What he needs right now is for all those who have supported him to understand how grateful he is for their help but if he can land the quad sal like that then he can perform the rest just as brilliantly.

He still wants to win.

His family is watching, holding a public viewing for their champion, and he won’t let them down. This last skate is for them as much as a thanks as it is an apology for having spent so long away.

He’d tried one year to skate competitively from Hasestu. Yuuri’s heart had been satisfied but not his mind. Being at home had been the balm he’d needed at the time but every greeting came with a question of his training and his placement. To see his beloved town expect so much from him with the very real possibility of disappointing them had sent him spiraling. 

He’d needed the distance that Detroit and America provided. But spending too much time away also made him forget that there was more to life than skating and as much as he loved the ice he couldn’t live there. 

Spending the off seasons in Hasetsu had been a good idea up until going back to America had begun to feel like a chore. Hasestu was home and without realizing it Yuuri was growing tired. Not bored, exactly, but the never ending stress of competing was taking its toll. He’d noticed the larger panic attacks but failed to realize that the smaller daily worries were just as impactful. 

No amount of medication or therapy could cure that and it’d taken a great deal of the second to realize he was coming to the end of his career. Yuuri could fight it to the last but eventually he would have to give in to the demands of time and his aching body. Either way something had to change and retirement no longer seemed like the death sentence it had once been. 

He still doesn’t want the world breathing down his neck about it but now the word means he can go home to his family. They’re waiting, eager for him to come back with or without a medal. They know gold is what he wants but he could come in dead last and they’d still be proud of him. All they want is his happiness. 

His hometown would be disappointed though. Katsuki Yuuri is Hasestu’s golden boy. Their expectations are high but Yuuri’s are higher still. 

One last quad and Yuuri jumps, wishing he could stay in the air forever. For a moment it’s true and he is gloriously at peace. But then the ice is back under his skates and the finality of it is sinking in. 

But he still has a performance to finish and he keeps on, going into his combination spin and breaking off to glide into his ending pose. Both his hands are out to his sides as he opens himself up to the audience, equal parts offering his heart and thanking them. 

The applause echoes in his ears and he tries to burn the sound into his mind so that he can never forget it. He knows in a few hours it’ll be gone and all he’ll have is a faded and faint memory. And there will be no competition next year to keep it fresh.

All too soon he is back beside Celestino, and his limbs are lax as he lets himself be crushed by Celestino's hug. It’s easier to let the world pass by for a while as he slowly catches up to it.

“That was beautiful,” Celestino murmurs and his eyes are wet when he pulls away to sit on the bench in the kiss and cry.

“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” Yuuri says. He doesn’t know when he started to cry but these aren’t going to be his last tears of the night. 

Celestino gives a sharp nod and Yuuri’s chest hurts. He wants to say something more but really, he’s said what he needed to with his skate. Celestino understands this language and words will just muddle Yuuri’s meaning. 

Yuuri knows he’s not easy to love, to deal with. His mind warps everything and turns the world much darker than it actually is. And as hard as he’s tried he can’t easily explain that to his friends and family. It’s humiliating, no matter what his friends, family, and collegues say. 

But they’ve stuck by him regardless and that support has allowed him to come this far, to where he might win the World Championship again. Yuuri exhales, trying to release some of the nervous energy. It’s all over and he wants to take home the gold again but at the same time, does it matter when this was his last time skating competitively? 

Yuuri doesn’t know the answer. He looks at Celestino as they wait.

“I don’t know how to feel,” he murmurs, hands clenched tight around his water bottle. 

“Whatever you feel is right,” Celestino says with a comforting smile. He gives a small gesture to encompass the whole of the rink. “All of it, I can’t tell you what you should do. But this is your moment so it’s whatever feels right to you.”

The screams start up as soon as his score hits the board and Yuuri doesn’t say anything, trying to look at the points without his glasses and his wet eyes, letting Celestino wrap his arm around him in a proud embrace and a nearly deafening yell of triumph in his ears. 

He edges Yuri-kun out by a point and a third in the free skate. 

His name, Yuuri KATSUKI, is at the top of the scoreboard.

Yuuri wins his fifth and final Worlds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this long chapter that would! not! end! But here are Victor's and Yurio's reactions. I hope they satisfy and deliver.

**Worlds Championship**  
**Helsinki, Finland**  
**March 2016**

The press conference is over and people are leaving, slowly milling around and getting the last of their things together. Victor has to be watched over like a child because he’s not quite an adult yet but when asked about it Yakov says something about getting a welcome break from Yuri. It makes Victor feels a little better because he’s sure that Yakov is deadly serious; Yuri is a lot to be around.

Though right now Yakov is grumbling next to him in the hallway as they sit and wait for everyone to file out, because of course Yuri managed to curse at least twice and insult Yuuri Katsuki while he was sitting right beside him. Not to mention calling rest of the competition incompetent and unworthy of being a challenge. There’s nothing Yakov could have done even if he’d been in the room though and he’s probably well aware. He’s definitely been muttering about where he went wrong and needing a shot. 

He could probably use more than that because that sludge in his office shouldn’t be fit for human consumption. Victor doesn’t say anything because that would mean admitting to being one of the juniors who broke into the stash he has in his office and trying out the weird unlabeled alcohol. That’s a mistake he won’t be making again anytime soon. 

He’d been the first to taste it, well aware the others were silently questioning his involvement in their shenanigans, and it had taken every ounce of effort to keep from throwing up on the spot. It’d been worth it to see the looks on the other skaters’ faces when it was their turn. Consensus had ruled out vodka, rum, gin, and beer though no one has figured out what it actually is. They’re all afraid to learn what it is they ingested.

Victor usually thinks that Yakov is being ridiculous but honestly, Yuri needs to take it down a notch. It’s not too hard to smile for the cameras and be polite. Well, Yakov won’t have that problem with him, because Victor knows how to avoid causing a scene. (He also knows exactly what to do to cause one because they go hand in hand, you see. Yakov doesn’t like hearing that part much but it’s true.)

Victor had half listened to the press conference before and after Yuuri had finished speaking. Mandatory interviews like these don’t really provide much information since Yuuri tends to go with short, vague answers. The most reliable information on Yuuri Katsuki is from his coach who offers press releases and interviews on his skater’s behalf. But really, there’s almost no point to watching these things, aside from getting another chance to admire Yuuri. Victor would never miss that opportunity. 

Victor hears someone shout and he looks up to see people congregating around the screens and monitors. There shouldn’t be anything surprising at this point in the men’s competition; Yuuri Katsuki has won and it was a beautiful performance, more than worthy of the fifth consecutive Worlds medal that Yuuri now has to his name. 

But then Yuuri grabs a microphone from one of the reporters and all feeds turn to listen. The sudden switching of the same scene at slightly different angles is shocking. Victor swallows something akin to fear down and stands up to get a better view. 

Yuuri Katsuki does not do interviews. He doesn’t do social media though this past year has been a veritable feast as his rinkmate Phichit Chulanont aggressively lives through instagram and twitter. Yuuri features heavily in his feed. Victor has prayed for Phichit’s happiness and good fortune many times this year. 

And Yuuri just came out of a press conference. He could have spoken there.

Victor is trying to puzzle out what could have happened when he hears the word “retirement” and his heart shatters. The people around him gasp and shout, but Victor can’t make a sound. He watches as Yuuri continues to speak on the screen, his expression serene and calm despite the devastating news he has just delivered. Victor can’t focus on the screaming around him. All he can do is stare at Yuuri.

People have been talking about his retirement since his first year of being a senior; it hadn’t gone well, no one would disagree with that. But Yuuri has shown a particular distaste for the word being mentioned around him. Victor had thought it was because he hated the entire idea, that he would keep competing until an injury took him out. 

Though Victor never liked to think about Yuuri retiring either.

“Shit,” Yakov says, a heavy hand on his shoulder but even that weight only barely registers. “Where is Yuri?” 

It takes Victor a minute to realize what Yakov says. He’s talking to himself but Victor has an answer for him.

“There,” Victor says, pointing to another screen now that Yuuri has finished and left. The screens are all different now that Yuuri has dropped his bombshell. That’s a smart reporter, or a lucky one, for finding Yuri as quickly as they did. 

Yakov curses, using a slew of words Victor has never even heard of, and he would be impressed if he wasn’t currently numb inside. He physically turns Victor and barks at him to follow. 

Victor obeys but he doesn’t want to deal with Yuri. He doesn’t want to hear it. It’s going to be something similar to what he’s feeling but with far more rage and physical destruction. 

Yakov seems to realize this on some level because he calls Georgi to make sure Victor gets to his hotel room first before taking off to find Yuri. Georgi shows up in record time and he speaks to Victor in a kind voice and soft words that all go over his head, asking him to get a good night’s sleep. But all Victor does is sit down on his bed and stare at the floor. It takes him far too long to pull out his phone. It’s hard to think when Yuuri’s announcement is the only thing going through his mind. 

The skating forums are on fire and he finds himself sinking into the familiar feeling of reading through the pages. Victor tells himself this helps, seeing the similar reactions written out in words he could not find on his own, but he’s not sure if it actually does. It doesn’t seem to click still.

There’s a statement from Celestino that’s a separate thread and Victor reads on, his heart sinking further as the comments point out how polished it is. This is no rush job after a skater blurts out the first thing in their mind. Yuuri and his coach had this planned out. 

The knock on the door makes him get up to answer and Mila takes one look at him before pushing her way in.

“Are you okay?” Mila asks, a convenience store bag in hand. She digs into it before he can answer and hands him a bottle of Nobe which Victor takes with gratitude. He’s genuinely touched that she remembers he likes the aloe vera drink but he doesn’t like the grape flavored one. He doesn’t drink it but wraps his hands around it, needing the feeling of something solid to hold onto. “I figured you needed a pick me up.” 

“I need today to be over,” he says as he stares down at the floor. 

“That bad?” She asks with a sympathetic noise. 

“I...I never thought…” Victor stops because he doesn’t want to think about Yuuri retiring. He’s been fighting and training for so long but now his dream is gone. He’s nothing to Yuuri and that usually hadn’t mattered since he knew they would meet one day. But he doesn’t have that promise anymore. 

“Victor?”

“I’m okay,” he ends up saying. Mila gives him a look. “You have your free skate tomorrow, right? You should focus on that.” 

“You’re my friend. And you’ll let me ask if you’re okay,” Mila says. “Yuri will probably just scream at me or something ridiculous. And he needs someone by his side more right now.”

“Yakov is with him,” Victor says. 

“Oh he found him? Good. Last I heard Yakov was still looking for him. I think Yuri has his phone off for once because all of Yakov’s calls were going straight to voicemail.” 

Victor shrugs and sets the bottle aside. If Yakov wants to find Yuri, he will; nothing can stop a determined Yakov Feltsman. He thanks Mila again and wishes her luck on her program, assuring her he’ll be there to cheer. 

Victor locks his door and shuts his own phone off. Georgi will be making an appearance soon too, well aware of how much Victor admires Yuuri, but he’s not in the mood to talk. 

Victor quickly gets ready for bed, darkening the room, and presses his face into the pillow. He doesn't know what he wants, other than to wake up and discover it was all wrong, that he misinterpreted it somehow. But Yuuri had made his announcement in English, clear as could be to Victor. His words keep echoing in Victor’s head and he keeps on shaking his head to get rid of them. But they don’t soften or lesson. 

He eventually falls asleep and when he wakes up he checks his phone to see if maybe it had been a nightmare. He knows it’s not but he needs to see physical proof. The forum is still properly shocked and in a frenzy though it seems to have calmed a little from last night. It’s mostly the next hemisphere catching up to the news.

Victor closes the tab out but twitter and instagram aren’t much better. It’s all about people talking about Yuuri’s past achievements and how they’ll miss seeing his skating. He throws his phone into his suitcase and stares up at the ceiling. 

Victor manages to shower and get dressed for the day because Mila has a competition to win. He promised her he’d go and she doesn’t deserve a lackluster teammate by her side when she’s always been supportive of him. Georgi shows up at his door just as Victor is locking it behind him. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Georgi asks. He has a cup of coffee that he quickly finishes as he looks Victor over.

“Rude,” Victor says without energy. He slept plenty. It’s the waking up part that’s taken a drain on him. 

“Mila doesn’t start right at seven so you could have slept in more,” Georgi points out as he follows him to the elevator.

“I slept fine,” Victor says, which is true even if Georgi won’t believe him. They’re the only two in the lift so he takes the chance to put his hair up in an uneven braid. He’ll regret not brushing it out later but he couldn’t spare the energy this morning. “Yakov brought me so I could watch the other skaters. I have plenty to learn.”

“True enough,” Georgi says. “But I think even Yakov would admit that today isn’t an ordinary day. I doubt he will even notice your absence. I think he stayed the night in Yuri’s room to make sure he doesn’t go after Katsuki. Mila thinks he tied Yuri to the bed and is leaving him there till we return home.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Victor asks, genuinely and sincerely curious as they reach the first floor and exit. 

“It would make me feel better, if I were you,” Georgi says with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Yakov has the right idea then. You should all be more worried about Yuri,” Victor says. 

Georgi snorts. 

“As if Yuri has ever let anyone comfort him.”

Victor gives a wry smile at that. But he doesn’t say anything more. He has an entire day to kill before Mila performs. Georgi has been in step with him since they left Victor’s room and Victor glances at him. Yuuri’s retirement opens up a podium spot so he’s probably thrilled though he’ll still have to contend with Yuri. 

“You should go enjoy yourself,” Victor says, as he stares at the hotel cafe. He’s not especially hungry but he doubts he can get away with not eating in front of Georgi. “You don’t need to keep watch over me.” 

“Keep watch?” Georgi raises an eyebrow. “Are we not friends?” 

“What?” 

“How could I leave you when I know you’re hurting? Don’t tell me you think so little of me,” Georgi says and he’s pouting, surprisingly hurt. 

“Oh. You know I don’t mean it like that,” he says even as he does but he doesn’t look at Georgi. Most of the time he doesn’t think about how he’s the youngest, how he’s not even technically a senior yet but he still spends more time with them rather than his fellow juniors, but right now he feels properly shamed and scolded. 

He orders a cup of strawberry yogurt and sits down with it, not at all surprised by Georgi’s scoff. Georgi comes back with a plateful and then shoves it before him. It’s clearly from the children’s menu but he keeps the crayons and paper for himself.

“Eat. Your favorite skater retired and you’re lost but that’s no excuse for dramatics,” Georgi says, a disturbingly accurate and probably unintentional patormine of Yakov, even if he is jabbing a green crayon at him in a threatening fashion. Victor doesn’t stare at him for any of that though. “Oh, come on. Don’t remind me. That was fasting and I only did it once. It was for a lost love, Victor, and I had to express my grief. But it doesn’t work out well for an athlete and I speak from experience. Eat something.” 

“Okay, Coach Georgi,” Victor says and forcibly shoves the pancake into his mouth. He is grinning a little despite himself. It’s easy to eat when he has to pause in between bites to laugh at Georgi’s drawing, which he insists is the five of them, though Victor has to admit the frowning face he drew on Yuri is spot on.

Victor doesn’t try to fight it when Georgi clasps an arm around him and declares that they’re going to tour Helsinki. Victor nods politely as they visit a cathedral. He pretends to be interested when Georgi stops in front of a plaque and reads off it, sounding as if he knows what he’s talking about. 

Georgi is trying and he certainly gets points for effort. But Victor didn’t come here to play tourist; he came to watch the best figure skaters in the world. With his integration of more feminine skating elements he wants to see how the best women skaters in the world perform. But right now he doesn’t want to think about the future, not when Yuuri Katsuki won’t be around. 

By the time they reach the Market Square Victor is arguing with Georgi over acceptable hashtags and deriding his sense of photo filters. His taste is absolutely deplorable, washed out colors and a disturbing reliance on the black and white pictures. Victor cannot believe he’s been right next to the man and has never discovered this. He follows his instagram but odds are he’s ignored the shitty photos without realizing it was Georgi responsible for the atrocity that shows up on his feed. 

Georgi refuses to let Victor take him shopping but he does relent and let Victor fill up one bag of clothes, citing they still have to fly back and Yakov will kill them both if he discovers that their bags are going to incur weight fees. Victor doesn’t point out that they are going by train. 

And Victor definitely doesn’t complain when Georgi hands him a drink called a Sofia during lunch. Victor scrunches his nose at the name of the beer because sure enough Georgi starts talking about an ex girlfriend by the same name. He pretends to gag and ends up coughing when he takes it too far, but it ends up working since Georgi interrupts himself to thump Victor’s back until he can breathe again. 

Georgi is a responsible adult and won’t let him have the refill that he gets but Victor still appreciates it. 

By the time Mila is up Victor feels a little bit more like his usual self, and he has no problem taking up one half of the banner Georgi made even though Yakov had screamed that it was not to go on this trip. Victor can tell it was smuggled in discretely because it is the most wrinkled sign in the whole stadium but Georgi only grins and says the glitter was still worth it. 

Victor is more than aware that he’s shoving everything else down and away but he thinks it’ll be okay since it’s for Mila. He screams himself hoarse and grins wide when Yakov scolds him for it. When Mila joins up with them she pauses in her delight to point out that Georgi could have ironed the fabric flat and that she actually really hates the orange glitter Georgi chose but she’s mostly thrilled with her third place finish. 

Yuri skips their celebration dinner but no one points his absence out. By all rights they should be celebrating him as well; a silver at Worlds is still a huge accomplishment. 

The next day Mila and Yuri are due to preform in the exhibition gala and so Victor and Georgi are left to their own devices again. Georgi won’t let him stay alone though and so it’s another day of sightseeing. It’s better than sitting in his hotel room even though that’s kind of what he really feels like doing. 

Victor waits till it’s Yuuri’s turn, equal parts eager and dismayed; he’s enjoyed his exhibition, a fun rendition of _Get Up and Move_. Yuuri skates so seriously that it’s always a thrill to watch him when he lets loose during the galas. 

That isn’t the music that plays. It takes Victor a few moments before he recognizes the first set of steps and jumps. It’s _Continua Metamorfosi_ from Yuuri’s junior days but so much more elegant. Victor doesn’t even try to stop himself from crying. The double jumps are replaced with their more advanced counterparts. The spins are all perfectly executed. And the final flourish as Yuuri ends his steps approaches all too soon.

Yuuri’s exhibition is beautiful but Victor can’t see it through his tears. He’s thankful he’s watched him intently this whole year. Now it’s the last time Yuuri will skate and Victor wants to watch but he cannot bear this. Victor claps and cries out Yuuri’s name as he takes his final bow, one of many voices mourning even as they all celebrate his legacy. 

Victor hopes someone got a good video because he’s going to need to watch it a thousand more times. Maybe by then he’ll be able to view it with clear eyes.

Sure enough when he gets back to his room there’s a video comparing the two routines already up and from there Victor clicks on through. He spends most of the night rewatching Yuuri’s past performances and he falls asleep to them. It’s a problem in the morning since his phone is dead and he misses all of Yakov’s messages. But at least he managed to get some sleep though Yakov doesn’t seem to understand that.

Victor wishes he could beg off going to the banquet but Yakov is determined to drag him there. The Junior Worlds Gold Medalist needs to be present especially since he’s making his Senior debut next year. And without Yuuri Katsuki around the top spot on the podium is waiting for its new champion. 

Georgi and Mila show up at his door for the banquet and Mila tuts at his state. She looks gorgeous, her red and white checkered dress so short that Victor knows it’s only that way because it’s going to make Yakov cry; it’s probably also why Georgi is wearing a woman’s dress shirt in a bright purple that honestly hurts his eyes but the fit is quite elegant. 

Victor glances down at his own drab blue suit and thinks about the equally bright ensemble that is lying discarded in his suitcase; he’d had a lot of fun imagining Yakov’s reaction to the mint green suit when he bought it. Neither of them say anything about his clothes and Victor decides that he’s going to ignore it as well. 

“Where’s your brush? I’m going to cry if you have to cut your hair because you haven’t been taking care of it. Do you want that, Victor?” 

“Your mascara is waterproof,” he says as he hands her the toiletry bag. He shakes his head when she pulls out his makeup but he lets her take out the hair products. She takes a few minutes to brush it out and pin it up in a braided bun that Victor can’t help but admire. It makes his neck look so much longer and he rather likes the effect. 

“Look how pretty you are,” she coos. Georgi nods in agreement. 

“You have to teach me this one,” he says, fingers delicately touching it as if that would help him figure it out. “I could probably skate with it.” 

“Maybe,” Mila says. “It’d have to be pulled tighter and you’d probably want to gel it instead of using the hair spray but-”

“We’ll be late, let’s go,” Georgi says, tapping at his watch. 

“But don’t interrupt me,” Mila says sweetly. 

Georgi does it again, a little louder, and Mila throws a bobby pin at him. It pokes him in the eye and Mila apologizes profusely as Victor howls with laughter and makes himself of no use. They debate the merits of an eyepatch for Georgi as they make their way to the banquet but by the time they arrive Georgi has stopped complaining about it. 

It’s just as well because when Yakov’s gaze lands on the pair of them it would have ended the conversation regardless. Yakov won’t make a scene but his dark look promises retribution for the colorfully clad skaters. 

“I think Georgi and Mila look wonderful,” Victor says in all honesty. Mila is with some of the other women skaters and she keeps looking back at Yakov with a blithe smile. 

“I expect this from you,” Yakov says with a too calculating eye on him and Victor shrugs. 

Yuri is practically glued to Yakov’s side and Victor isn’t sure if it’s Yuri’s doing or Yakov’s. It’s not worth asking and Victor goes to find Georgi who is deep in conversation with someone who seems to be a representative from a blades manufacturer. Georgi introduces him and Victor finds himself engaged despite himself; when the woman excuses herself, Victor has her card, and Georgi nods at him proudly.

“There, now you will escape Yakov’s wrath for the night,” Georgi says. 

“For a change,” Victor agrees. It is vaguely nice that Yakov hasn’t directed his death glare towards him but Victor knows it’s only because he’s not entirely himself. He can’t help looking at Yuri, who is quiet and also out of sorts, though at least he doesn’t seem like he’s fraying at the seams. Victor almost wishes someone would call him out on how well he’s hiding everything but that would defeat the purpose. 

“He looks better than I thought,” Georgi says, catching Victor’s line of sight. “You know, I thought he wouldn’t come.” 

“Yakov would make him,” Victor says and pulls out his phone so that maybe Georgi will understand that while Victor cannot exactly refuse to talk about Yuri, he’s not too interested in that conversation. He doesn’t want to talk about Yuri when it’s only a mirror of his own state. 

Both Mila and Georgi point out Yuuri Katsuki to him but Victor only shakes his head. 

“That’s not like you,” Mila says as she cracks open a plastic water bottle. 

“Oh?” 

“Victor, don’t,” she says but she doesn’t say anything more. 

He presses a hand to his face as if to check on a mask but it’s only an emotional one, a personality switch that isn’t as polished as he wishes. Victor looks at Yuuri then back at Yakov and Yuri. He straightens up and makes sure that the stray bits of his hair are tucked behind his ears.

“You’re absolutely right. Excuse me,” he says and plucks Georgi’s glass of wine from his hands, downing it before his surprised look and Mila’s enthusiastic grin. Georgi takes his empty glass back with a fond eyeroll. “Okay, now wish me luck.” 

He marches over to where Yuuri is chatting with someone and patiently waits until they are done.

“Congratulations on your win,” Victor says, praying his voice doesn’t break. It sounds pretty steady. 

“Thank you,” Yuuri says with a smile. He pauses, blinks, then squints a little at him. “You’re Victor Nikiforov, right? My rinkmate says you’re inspiring but also terrifying since he’s going to have to compete against you next year when you go into seniors.” 

Victor is well aware that his mouth is hanging open, gaping like a fish because Yuuri Katsuki apparently knows who he is. It’s just hard to do anything about it. Mila and Georgi are waving their arms at him frantically and that’s enough to jolt Victor out of his shocked state. He shuts his mouth and nods way too eagerly. 

“Who is your rinkmate?” Victor asks. 

“Phichit Chulanont, he’s from Thailand, excellent skater, and if you see him, duck.” Yuuri mimes a cell phone taking pictures. Victor laughs but Yuuri shakes his head. “I’m serious! I’ve been avoiding him this entire time. And this room isn’t that big. He says I have to document everything that happens since this is my last night.” 

Victor stops mid laugh. 

“I, everyone is going to miss you,” Victor says and Yuuri’s eyes turn soft. 

“I’m sorry. But I won’t change my mind, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve made my decision,” he says and though Victor hadn’t planned on asking that, his heart still clenches at the certainty in Yuuri’s voice. 

“I understand but-”

“Oh no, there he is, bye, nice talking to you,” Yuuri says and then he’s off. Victor doesn’t even have time to feel offended before someone who is probably Phichit manifests at his side. He’s in a deep purple suit, almost a black, with the most beautiful golden embroidery on the front that he’s ever seen and Victor wishes for a moment that he could pull it off. It’s fantastic and he needs a picture of it.

“Where did he go?” 

Victor shrugs and points in the opposite direction that Yuuri went. The man thanks him then makes to take off when Victor grabs his sleeve. 

“Can I take a picture with you?” 

He blinks then smiles. 

“Of course! My name’s Phichit,” he says as he holds up his phone. 

“Victor,” he says as he smiles. 

“I know. I watched your program. You’re really good! You’re going to be serious competition next year.” Phichit lets Victor take the next round of pictures and he lowers his phone, opening up his twitter when he stops. “Aw shit, Yuuri! He keeps on getting away from me. Which way did you say he went again?” 

Victor points in the wrong direction again and feels absolutely no guilt when Phichit thanks him. He makes his way back to Mila and Georgi who are clapping in unison.

“You talked to him! I’m so proud of you, Victor!” Mila says as she hugs him. 

“Please stop,” Victor says, his words coming out odd from where Mila is squishing his face. “I don’t want to talk about it. I need to recover. My soul is purified and damaged all at once.” 

“What.” Mila lets go of him to stare at him in confusion but the words have their intended effect because Georgi steps in with a solemn nod. 

“I understand perfectly. It’s a hard task, isn’t it, Victor? You poor child.” 

“Another glass of wine would help,” he points out with a hopeful smile. 

“Of course,” Georgi says, clapping him on the back. 

“Georgi, don’t get him drunk here.” 

“We’re in public and at an ISU official gathering,” Georgi says with dignity. “We are all only going to get tipsy in solidarity with Victor’s grieving heart.” 

“Also I’m underage,” Victor points out cheerfully. 

Mila looks at them both. Then she looks to Yakov. 

“My dress is really short so don’t let me get so drunk that I start dancing wild, okay?” 

Georgi and Victor agree and promise to protect one another's images. It’s not the best of solutions but Victor is having some fun, and whenever he glances at Yuri, he thinks that at least he’s trying to make the best of the situation. Yuri is still by Yakov’s side. 

Victor is dancing with Mila, elegant and refined, when he realizes that Yuuri is making his final rounds. Yuuri only stays for a half hour more then he, his coach, and his rinkmate are off to the airport. When he discovers this Victor wonders at how far ahead they have planned this all but he can’t bring himself to be too disappointed. It’s the talk of tonight, Yuuri Katsuki’s retirement, and all Victor wants to do is scream about how unfair it is. If only he’d been a year older, or pushed Yakov into letting him compete sooner, but no one wants to hear him complain tonight.

And Victor doesn’t want to ruin this night, where everyone has nothing but kind words towards Yuuri as they reminisce about his career. It’s a twisted version of what he enjoys, being in a room full of people talking about how wonderful Yuuri is. 

Tomorrow still comes even if sleep hadn’t come easily for him. Victor disturbingly feels like Yuri, glaring at everything in sight and wishing he could scream his heartache away. He hasn’t seen him since last night and Yakov still seems tense, as if at any minute Yuri will burst out of his room and cause a panic. Victor wouldn’t be surprised if Yuri blew up. He sort of wishes he could but he can’t find any anger to spark; everything is thick and hazy, like he’s walking through water. 

He’s stuck next to Yuri on the train ride back and normally it would be halfway amusing to rile him up. But Victor doesn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone Yuri, who will expect him to have a smart comment at the ready like he usually does. 

Yuri looks at him, subdued but still very much himself, and he frowns. 

“You sick?” 

“Shut up,” Victor says without energy. He rubs his hands across his face; they’re dry and the skin around his knuckles is already beginning to flake and crack, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

Yuri makes a noise but otherwise ignores him which is much more preferable than trying to talk to Yuri Plisetsky. He’s probably just thankful that Yuuri is gone so that he can finally get those gold medals he’s been lusting after. 

Victor turns as much as he can in the seat and tries to go to sleep. 

Once they arrive in Russia, he leaves the others as soon as he can, barely taking note of Yakov’s reminder that he still has training to go to. All he wants to do is be home where he can sit down and try to process what has happened.

He stops after he lets himself into his apartment and stares at the row of photographic prints that are sitting against his shelf. It’s a photo shoot of Yuuri during the 2013-2014 year when he’d won his third Grand Prix Final. They hadn’t fit anywhere in his room but they’d been too beautiful to be kept stored away and he hasn’t figured out where to properly put them yet. His heart aches and he wonders if it will ever stop.

Makkachin comes to greet him and he drops to the ground to sob into his beloved dog’s fur. There’s no one around to see him break and Makkachin never tells his secrets. He’ll never skate with Yuuri now. Victor was one year short and Yuuri is gone from him, far beyond his reach. 

**Detroit, United States**  
**August 2014**

Celestino lied to him. Phichit Chulanont is not a new skater, he’s a terrifying force of nature, and the only proper response is to flee. Unfortunately he’s at the rink, the one place Yuuri typically finds comfort, and he absolutely has to train for the upcoming season. He’s got to stop messing up his quad salchow in competitions. Yuri-kun can land them without a problem and it makes Yuuri want to improve. 

He will probably never tell Yuri-kun but he’s watched videos of him landing that jump so many times to train. Whatever they are to one another, they are still rivals, and Yuuri really does appreciate that Yuri-kun is always on the cusp of beating him. It pushes him to work hard, knowing that Yuri Plisetsky is right there to snap up the gold if he fails. 

It’s also completely and utterly terrifying because Yuri-kun is such a horrible winner and he has never missed a chance to rub his gold in Yuuri’s face. 

His face flushes; it’s normal to go months without hearing from Yuri-kun but the last time they spoke, they had sex. They might not speak for months more till they meet at the Grand Prix Final. And Yuuri knows even with all that time in between he won’t have figured out what to say to him. 

He’s hesitating and trying to put off running into Phichit again because he sits down at bench and scrolls through his phone. Most of his past messages with Yuri-kun are room numbers and where they can meet up when they’re in the same city. They don’t text much the rest of the year. Yuuri sends him congratulations when Yuri-kun wins but that’s the extent of it. 

It’s little better online where Yuri-kun talks about how he’s going to beat him and Yuuri ignores responding to that. Once in awhile he’ll message Yuri-kun, often after a notable interview or photoshoot to expression his confusion. 

Yuuri sighs and takes a long drink from his water bottle. He doesn’t understand this relationship. They’ve never been friends and with the way Yuri-kun hisses at him, he wouldn’t dare say out loud they’re even friendly. Yuuri was content with their rivalry but Yuri-kun was apparently not. 

“Why,” Yuuri says out loud. He has no idea when his life got this ridiculous. 

But he can still remember what it felt like to have Yuri-kun pressed underneath him, fingernails digging into his skin, his hot breath against him, and all he wants is to have that again. They could be friends if Yuri-kun let it happen. He’s one of the few skaters that Yuuri would call a friend if he didn’t think that it would infuriate him.

Yuuri can’t even figure out what Yuri-kun wants from him and this thinking around in circles isn’t productive. Skating would help right now because then at least he could focus on that even if Yuri-kun is intertwined with it. He gets up and heads towards the stadium. It’s easy to let everything slip away when he’s on the ice. 

Yuuri hears the sound of a phone shutter going off and he pales a little because somehow, he knows without a doubt that it was directed at him. And he knows exactly who is responsible for it. 

“Yuuri Katsuki!” Phichit doesn’t waste time and Yuuri suspects he’s been camped out here, waiting for Yuuri to make his inevitable appearance. 

It’s a completely ridiculous thought because Phichit has classes but Yuuri dreads meeting fans. He’s not that amazing. 

Yuuri struggles not to squeak as Phichit approaches him; he is a twenty five year old adult male and he will not show fear in front of this underclassman. He stands up so that Phichit won’t be able to look down at him. Phichit is a first year and Yuuri graduated three years ago. He’s only a few steps away from entering the arena proper but his pathway is completely and utterly blocked by this smartphone wielding creature. 

“Please take a selfie with me!” Phichit says, phone held at the ready, blocking the entrance.

“Why would you even want a picture with me?” Yuuri asks weakly, unsure of how to say ‘please go away’ without being rude or screaming. Running away in terror isn’t an option either though it might end up happening regardless.

“You’re Yuuri Katsuki,” Phichit says and he has a hungry look in his eyes that chills Yuuri’s soul. “Three time consecutive World Champion and Grand Prix gold medalist! Reclusive and mysterious bachelor! Notorious for refusing social media and most interviews!”

“Please put your phone down,” Yuuri says, hands up as if that would ward the photos off. He would feel safer if Phichit was pointing a weapon at him. 

“Why?” Phichit asks. 

“There’s no photography inside the rink,” Yuuri says, and he hopes he doesn’t sound desperate even though he is. 

“That’s why we’re outside of it,” Phichit points out cheerfully. “And anyway, that’s not really true, is it? I’ve seen lots of people taking pics inside. I’m pretty sure it’s just an old thing that no one pays attention to.” 

“It’s not,” Yuuri says. 

It was a rule Celestino set up for him after he won at Worlds and he’s been thankful. There were too many people coming by the rink to get a look at him. Why they were doing that, Yuuri will never understand, but most people vanished once they realized how boring he was and when they learned they couldn’t record anything. 

By now everyone knows that as long as they aren’t taking photos or videos of Yuuri, Celestino doesn’t pay attention, but Phichit is apparently going to test the limits of that. Yesterday Celestino had made Phichit put his phone away by ordering him to return to practicing but he hadn’t made it clear that it was meant to extend beyond that one moment. 

“Wait, really? What. That can’t be true,” Phichit says, raising an eyebrow at first and then frowning. “It’s 2014, they can’t do this sort of thing to me! How am I supposed to keep my instagram updated if I can’t take pictures? Who made this stupid rule?”

“I-I have to go,” Yuuri says and hates that he hears the phone go off again. 

As much as he wants to skate he knows he won’t be able to if Phichit is around; there’s a crawling sensation in his skull at the mere thought. He needs to find Celestino now and figure something out. This year is going to be a nightmare if he has to deal with this Phichit everyday. 

“Wait up, I’m coming with,” Phichit calls out as he catches up to him. He’s got a bouncy step and even the cold rush of the ice and air conditioning as they enter the arena doesn’t wash any of Yuuri’s anxieties away like it usually does. “Are you going to practice your short program today? That’s my favorite. I know your long programs are better but-” 

“Phichit! You’re late!” Celestino frowns at him then glances at Yuuri. “What’s your excuse this time?” 

“Yuuri was late and I waited for him,” Phichit says. “Look, we’re both getting yelled at by our coach. Selfie!” 

Yuuri runs away as Celestino begins to yell something at Phichit. He hopes it looks like he’s just going to put his skates on but doesn’t really care. 

Yuuri steps onto the ice and takes a deep breath as he skates to the less populated side. His mind clears as he runs through his warm ups and he’s mostly back to himself when he finishes them. Yuuri hesitates as he goes through his phone for his music. He wanted to work on his short program today but he glances around; Phichit is nowhere in sight but it won’t stay that way. 

Celestino is busy talking with another skater and so Yuuri decides to go through his free skate first. He can work on his SP tomorrow. And it’s not like his FP is perfect and couldn’t use the extra work anyway. Celestino still doesn’t like that he has a quad salchow in a combination and Yuuri understands but he’s not budging on this one. It fits the music perfectly and he’s never going to learn it properly if he keeps shying away from the jump. 

Yuuri is willing to take the falls and bruises. 

He’s not so willing to cause other people the same though and he nearly crashes with someone else when they skate into his path. Yuuri barely manages to move out of the way and he grabs onto the barrier to keep from toppling down. There’s no grace as he lands on his butt and it still hurts but it could have been a lot worse.

“I almost hit you,” Yuuri gasps as he gets up and he tries to put some distance between himself and Phichit. 

“I’m sorry,” Phichit says. “Celestino says I’m coming on too strong. But I’ve been watching you since you won your first GPF. And you’re so good so I can’t really believe we’re going to be on the same ice training together. I didn’t mean to, what’s the word, harass you-” 

“Okay, okay, it’s fine,” Yuuri says, a little dizzy from how fast Phichit is speaking. “You’re not hurt, are you?” 

“No, but that’s not really the point. I didn’t realize I was being so annoying and that fan which I never wanted to be. I really do admire you a lot and I know you like your privacy. But I thought it would be different and I don’t even know why. Ugh, I’m so dumb-” 

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri says with a small smile, waving it off. If it doesn’t happen again then he’s alright. 

“Are you hurt?” Phichit asks. He looks far too worried and he’s still wringing his hands together. 

“Only my pride,” Yuuri says. He doesn’t even think his ass will bruise but he doesn’t mention anything. “It’s fine, really. I fall down all the time.”

“It’s _not_ fine. Do you know how many fans would kill me if you got hurt because of me?” 

“Like nine,” Yuuri says, thinking of his family and friends. “It’s okay.” 

Phichit’s eyes widen and Yuuri remembers too late that he’s supposed to work on not constantly putting himself down, especially to people he barely knows and who have declared themselves his fan. Minako-sensei would be screeching right now if she saw this.

“More like nine million,” Phichit says. 

“I don’t even think nine million people watch figure skating,” Yuuri says with a laugh. “But anyway, I promise I’m fine. Can I, uh, get back to actually skating?” 

“Right! Yes! I’m sorry!” Phichit says again. “I’ll be more careful. I just needed to make sure that I apologized.”

Yuuri watches as Phichit glides away and glances over at Celestino. He’s busy but he seems to sense Yuuri’s look because he turns his head to meet his eyes. Yuuri gives him a nod to show that he’s alright and Celestino visibly relaxes, giving him a thumbs up before returning to the skater he’s talking with. 

Yuuri runs through his FS a few more times before he switches to his SP. It’s a lot easier to get into the program now that he doesn’t have that fear of Phichit hounding him. He still falls a few times but it’s not enough to make Celestino pull him to the side and ask how he’s doing. 

It’s late, almost ten by the time he finally leaves, and everything aches but he doesn’t have homework anymore so it’s fine. He’ll go in a little later tomorrow and make sure to leave by eight so that Celestino doesn’t scold him too much for overworking himself. But it’s easy to lose track of time when he’s on the ice; it usually isn’t until his feet and knees start protesting that he stops when he gets lost in his skating.

Phichit is waiting right by the exit, quickly shoving his phone into his back pocket and putting his hands up, as if in a show of peace. Yuuri can’t help but be amused. 

“I’m not asking you for a picture,” Phichit says. “I wanted to know if you want to grab something to eat? My treat. I really feel awful for this afternoon. And yesterday.” 

“I told you, it’s fine. You already said you were sorry,” Yuuri says. Despite the hour It’s hot enough outside that it makes his post practice shower feel utterly useless. 

“Well, I’m hungry, so I’m going to go eat anyway? I’d really appreciate it if you let me do this.” 

Yuuri thinks is over for a moment then nods. He can understand wanting to properly apologize. At this hour they’re stuck with fast food shops which Yuuri assures Phichit is fine. He’s lived around here long enough to know that there’s no other options this late at night and he knows how to juggle with his diet. 

“Don’t tell coach,” Phichit says before he bites into his hamburger and washes it down with a slurp of his milkshake.

Yuuri blinks then pretends to look away as if he sees nothing. He’s not indulging much with his chicken sandwich and side salad but he’s very tempted to as he sees Phichit coat his french fries in honey dipping sauce. 

“So. Can I ask why you don’t like social media? Because your twitter is so empty that I thought it was abandoned. I took the photos down that I had but they were pretty popular. People were thanking me for having any pictures of you,” Phichit says. 

“I’m not that interesting,” Yuuri says with a shrug. “I don’t really get why anyone would want a picture of me, let alone multiple ones.” 

“What?” Phichit says. “You won Worlds three times in a row! Do you know how amazing that is?” 

Yuuri shrugs again and takes a long drink of his iced tea. He works hard at what he does. And people like Yuri-kun are much more interesting to hear about. It’s the prodigies and the geniuses that get tales passed around, not ordinary people like Yuuri who have to try a thousand times to master one jump. 

“I’m not really anything special,” Yuuri says. “I practice a lot.” 

“Yeah, it’s kind of late. How did you let Celestino let you stay on the ice that long? He always kicks me out the minute the sun sets.” 

“I dunno,” Yuuri says and he does not look at Phichit in the eyes, carefully looking at his forehead or chin so that it’s clear he’s still paying attention to him. He doesn’t really want to explain how Celestino knows about his stupid brain and that skating, while a major source of his worries, is also the best thing he can do to calm himself down. “I guess he knows I need that extra time.” 

Phichit looks like he’s going to call him out on his bullshit but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Just...ask before you post something?” Yuuri offers, partly as a distraction and also because Celestino has been talking more about his social media presence. The other skaters on the competitive circuit all seem to have online accounts and he’s spent enough time on Yuri-kun’s sites to know that he’s in love with the whole phenomenon. “I’d like to be sure I’m not like, looking like I just rolled out of bed or I’ve got stuff in my teeth, you know?” 

“Are you sure?” Phichit asks. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to be able to post pictures of _The Yuuri Katsuki_ but if you’re not okay with it, it’s cool.” 

“Maybe we can start slow,” Yuuri says. He sees Phichit glance at his phone and swallows a little even though he has nothing in his mouth. “Like not right now. 

“Okay. Can I have your number? That way I can send any pictures I take to you and you can choose which ones go up?” Yuuri hesitates and Phichit starts to flail. “No, no, it’s fine! I understand! I’m not trying to be creepy-” 

“It’s not you,” Yuuri says. “I just don’t give it out to anyone. I’ve gotten weird calls before.” 

“O-oh. That makes sense. I bet it sucks. I’m sorry,” Phichit says, his eyes a little wide. 

Yuuri’s mostly confused why anyone would bother with all that effort for him rather than freaked out. Interview requests always go through Celestino which is standard for all of his skaters and pretty much everyone else. Fans who get his number are actually a little easier to deal with because he just apologizes, hangs up, and blocks their number. 

“How about twitter?” Yuuri suggests. 

“That’s fine. I like instagram a lot more though?” 

“I don’t have one.” 

“We have to get you one. Download the app right now. It’s amazing,” Phichit says, his voice serious again, and Yuuri laughs a little as he opens his phone to download it. It probably isn’t that great but it won’t hurt to have it on his phone. 

And he doesn’t mind doing something like this for someone who seems like they could be a friend. 

**Worlds Championship**  
**Helsinki, Finland**  
**March 2016**

Yuri is going to kill Katsuki. They were literally sitting right fucking next to one another at the post awards press conference and he could have announced his retirement then like a normal person but no. He had to wait until it was actually done and then go out to find the first person with a microphone to tell the world of his stupid ass idea. 

Yuri found out when another reporter practically launched himself at him for a soundbite and Yuri unfortunately provided a rather spectacular one. Yakov would have killed him if he hadn’t been surprised enough himself. 

Yuri fights the urge to flip his hood on so he can hide from the world because right now, everyone is watching, waiting for his reaction. They want to know what Yuri thinks of his longtime rival leaving the ice and all he wants to do is yell at everyone to shut up and go away. 

Luckily Yakov had found him before Yuri actually punched someone out or did something equally stupid. Of course, he found him because he was cursing up a storm on live television but hey, things could have gone much worse. 

He’s following Yakov through the arena back to their hotel, navigating the hallways so they can avoid the worst of the crowds and reporters. Yuri sees Katuski’s coach before he sees Katsuki himself and he’s still surprised when Katsuki manifests before him. It takes him a moment to realize it’s because Katsuki has his glasses on and most of the gel in his hair is gone. It’s not the way he looks on ice when he’s standing up high on the podium. There’s an exhausted air about him but Yuri vindictively thinks that’s what he deserves. 

“I need to talk to you,” Katsuki says after Yuri has heard the news of his retirement from everyone else and people are finally dispersing.

He doesn’t seem to care that there are people around who are actively tuned into this conversation. Yuri is about to get pissed off till he realizes that Katsuki’s gaze is focused strictly on him. He swallows his pleased feeling down because god dammit he’s livid and he’s going to stay that way until he gets some answers from this piece of shit.

“Fine, let me change first,” he says, trying to go for nonchalant and maybe succeeding because no one else seems weirded out. 

Katsuki then realizes how many people are around and his face shuts down. He nods once then turns and leaves without another word. Yuri scoffs because it’s really not a mystery why people think Katsuki is a cold hearted asshole. It’s usually hilarious because he’s really not. But right now Yuri doesn’t feel like being gracious; if anything he thinks he’s been too kind because Katsuki is a selfish bastard to pull a stunt like this. 

“What are you thinking, Yuri?” Yakov asks in a low tone. 

“I’m thinking Katsuki is going to fucking regret what he said,” Yuri snaps. 

Yakov sighs but he says nothing more. He doesn’t even remind Yuri that they still have the gala and banquet, plus Mila’s free skate tomorrow. All he does is makes sure that Yuri gets to his room with a half hearted reminder to stop cursing on international platforms. 

It makes Yuri wonder at how much Yakov knows about the relationship he has with Katsuki but it’s easier to pretend like Yakov totally has no clue what’s going on. His coach knowing about his sex life is just one of those things that Yuri prefers not to spend too much time thinking about.

Yuri has barely stripped his clothes off and is looking for something to wear because what the hell do you even put on when your rival is retiring and wants to talk to you about it? He’s sniffing at a shirt when there’s a knock at his door and Yuri grits his teeth because he knows exactly who it is. Katsuki can fucking wait. 

Though if Yuri makes him wait for too long he’s going to run and Yuri is not going to chase him down this time. It’s Katsuki’s turn, he thinks. He shoves a t shirt and sweatpants on, because he’s going to get answers from Katsuki right now, and dammit he’s been chasing after Katsuki for years. That’s not going to stop and he hates himself for it. But he can admit it for this night. 

He tries to slam the door open even though it’s harder to swing it inward and sure enough it’s Katsuki standing there.

“You didn’t tell me,” Yuri snarls, not even letting him get inside. He wants to grab Katsuki, needs to pin him in place till he explains himself in words Yuri can understand, but if he so much as even touches him right now, it’ll be to hurt him. They can be rough with one another but Yuri doesn’t actually want to hurt him. But he’s been betrayed by the one person he never thought would leave him like this. He was sure that nothing short of an injury would keep Katsuki from the ice. 

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki says. He’s not looking at Yuri but he’s not staring at anything in particular. His gaze is far away but Yuri wants to grab Katsuki’s face to force him to look him in the eyes. Katsuki steps inside and Yuri finally slams the door, viciously glad at how he startles at the sound. “I wanted to tell you. I didn’t know how. I’m still not sure how to explain it to you.” 

“What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Yuri asks. He unclenches his fists but he can’t keep them relaxed for long. 

“I was going to announce it at the press conference but…” Katsuki trails off and looks at him. “...I forgot you would be there sitting next to me. I couldn’t do it like that.” 

Yuri blinks. 

“Oh,” he says, unable to think of anything to say. But it’s too awkward to keep silent. He searches around for something more to say. “Why are you leaving?” 

“I’m...tired,” Katsuki says and he takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes. “I can’t skate forever. I’ll get hurt sooner or later and then I’ll be forced to retire anyway. Isn’t it better to go out when I want to?” 

“No,” Yuri says. “You keep skating until you can’t anymore. How can you choose to leave like this? You could skate for years more.” 

“I really don’t think-” 

“Not even a year more? You can’t even keep going for one more year? I thought you were stronger than that, Katsuki. I guess-”

“I’m _tired_ ,” Katsuki repeats. His glasses don’t hide the rare burst of anger in his eyes. “Maybe I could physically keep going on for another year or two or five. But I don’t want to. I want to go home and relax because even though I love skating and I don’t want to leave, I can’t keep going on. I’m exhausted.” 

Yuri stops at that because Katsuki is trying to say something but he’s not using the right words. He’s not sure if it’s a language issue, but it doesn’t seem like Katsuki is struggling with his English. 

“The off season is here. That’s not enough of a break?” Yuri asks. 

“It’s stressful and I particularly don’t handle stress well,” Katsuki says. He begins to pace the length of the room but it’s not much. 

“No one does,” Yuri says which is a lie but seriously, they all have to deal with stress. This isn’t all there is to it. He stands in place, arms crossed.

Katsuki gives an ugly laugh. 

“You can’t understand. You won’t. How could Yuri Plisetsky understand? You get second place and complain about it.” 

“You’re right, I don’t understand,” Yuri says, almost yelling, because Katsuki is the same way. They skate to win. He clenches his fists as if that would be enough to hold back everything. “All I see is an old man looking for an excuse to get out while the going is still good.” 

“That’s fine,” Katsuki says. He stops in place and nods, an oddly thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t mind that. If that's what you want to think, that’s okay. It’s sort of true anyway. I did want to go out on top and I have. I guess if I had won silver I might have stayed for another year.” 

It burns to hear that Yuri’s failure is a factor in this bullshit retiring idea though he is sure Katuski isn’t even talking to him right now. If Yuri had known, he would have pushed himself more, strived harder to close that goddamn three point gap, but he hadn’t known because Katsuki had kept his stupid fucking plan to himself. 

“You stupid fucker, that’s not what I want to hear,” Yuri snarls. 

“Yuri-kun, I thought you’d be happier,” Katsuki says. He makes a useless gesture with his hand. “Now you have a better shot at winning gold. Isn’t that what you really want?”

Yuri freezes. He looks at Katsuki and wonders at how such a brilliant man can be so stupid. Katsuki is standing there waiting for Yuri to answer, and all Yuri wants to do is pry his head open to see what’s gone so wrong inside. He gets this feeling around Katsuki often, that whatever lets him skate as wonderfully as he does has also fucked him up for dealing with normal people sometimes, even though by all accounts Yuri is the one with the atrocious press manner. 

Katsuki says phrases that make no sense, but that feel dismissive of himself, which Yuri cannot understand. After Yuri wins there’s nothing in the world that can bring him down. But Katsuki doesn’t ever seem to hold onto that thrill the way Yuri does. 

He never will again now. 

Yuri opens his mouth to say something but now all he can think about is how Katsuki is retiring. This moment, arguing in a hotel room in a foreign country, will never happen again. 

“I don’t...want…” Yuri wets his lips and tries again. He has Katsuki’s undivided attention but he doesn’t know what he needs to say. “I need to beat you. It’s not the same.” 

“I don’t have any doubt that you’ll surpass me,” Katsuki says and his voice is familiar and friendly, because as ridiculous as Yuri has been, Katsuki has always been kind to him. And it should make him feel better, to hear how much faith Katsuki has in him, but he speaks with such finality that Yuri can’t breathe. 

The hotel room is too small for the conversation and Yuri stares at the walls, the nondescript bed, the ever present carpet pattern that all hotels seem to share. He finally drags his gaze back to Katsuki and his head clears. 

“You can’t leave me,” Yuri says and it’s what he’s wanted to say all night long since he heard Katsuki say the words. 

Katsuki’s eyes open wide. 

“Yuri-kun, what-?”

“You can’t. Yuuri, you can’t leave me.”

Katsuki inhales sharply and Yuri doesn’t even have a chance to frown before Katsuki has a rough hand in his hair, pulling him down to kiss him. Yuri is torn between needing it and wanting to punch Katsuki’s teeth in. 

“You’ve never…” Katsuki chooses to kiss him again instead of finishing his sentence but Yuri flushes as he realizes what Katsuki was going to say. 

His grandfather is the only one who knows that when the junior Katsuki had skated onto the ice, Yuri had screamed, with indignation at first that someone else was skating with his name and then with blissed approval after Katsuki had finished. He’s been mesmerized by Katsuki’s skating since so long ago.

Then when Yuri had moved up to the senior division it had become embarrassing to share a name with him though Yuri never told anyone that. People assumed he was angry by the fact that it made for fantastic headlines and memes, like he was being mocked. By the time they had begun this relationship, the pattern had already been set, and he couldn’t back down. 

It’s been Katsuki versus Plisetsky in their professional lives, Yuri-kun and Katsuki in interviews and their more private life. And now it’s Yuuri and Yuri.

Yuri hisses as Katsuki’s knee grinds against his cock and he stops kissing him so he can throw his head back and groan. It’s equal parts pleasure and pain because he’s so ready for this, so hard and eager to have Katsuki moaning in equal measure.

“Off,” Yuri demands, tugging at his shirt, and Katsuki is complying before he needs to repeat himself. He does one better and starts taking everything off, throwing his clothes away without a second glance, his glasses following suit. 

Yuri, who started with less clothing, barely manages to wait before he gets his hands on Katsuki. They’re lying on their sides, trying to touch as much of the other as they can, and Yuri thinks it’s fantastic. But Katsuki stops him with a gentle hand on his face, cupping his face with both hands, and meeting his eyes. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs and Yuri flushes. There’s no way to hide it either. 

“No, I’m hot,” Yuri says. Katsuki chuckles. “Don’t laugh at me.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Katsuki says and kisses him, still laughing a little. Yuri likes it though, when Katsuki is more relaxed and can tease him, though he does nip his lip a little because he’s not going to let that one pass. He licks Katsuki’s lip in apology and Katsuki takes advantage of his focus to roll them over so that he’s on top of Yuri. 

Their dicks are pressed together and Yuri thinks they should do it like this more often, because he can feel so much of Katsuki’s body when they’re chest to chest. Sweat is starting to cover their bodies and it adds to the slick feeling between them.

He’s going to take this. Yuri was going to have Katsuki like this anyway but now he’s going to enjoy every goddamn second of it. No one is going to be able to take this away from them, not even Katsuki, who is a fucking asshole. 

“Faster,” Katsuki gasps.

“Fuck you,” Yuri says and slows down, absolutely delighting in the whine that escaped Katsuki’s throat. 

“Y-you…” Katsuki shakes his head and presses his forehead to Yuri’s shoulder. He’s still rocking his hips but he’s slowed down too and Yuri smirks. 

Yuri spreads his legs a little more so that his feet are against the bed and he has a sturdier position so he can push up against Katsuki in slow, strong thrusts. Katsuki makes a strangled noise at the first thrust and one of his hands digs into Yuri’s bicep, hard enough that it hurts. He lets go before Yuri can say anything. 

“Sorry,” he manages to gasp. 

“Don't bother,” Yuri says and starts moving faster again. He needs to see Katsuki come and he needs to know that he made it happen. Yuri digs his fingers into Katsuki’s ass, grabbing as much as he can and if he thinks ‘mine’, it’s all inside his head. But the way Katsuki groans and pushes back, he can totally feel how possessive Yuri is being. And he likes it. 

Both of their cocks are leaking now and it makes it easier to move. Katsuki reaches down to help keep their dicks in place and every touch of his fingertips against Yuri’s cock makes him groan and shiver as he nears orgasm.

“Yuuri,” he moans out as he comes first and he doesn’t even hesitate. It’s so good and right. Katsuki whimpers at hearing his name but he stops himself so that Yuri isn’t painfully overwhelmed. His hand moves to work at his own dick but Yuri nudges at him with his thigh. “Stop that. Let me do it.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Katsuki says and he gets up a little more so that Yuri has space to work his hand over his cock. He thrusts into Yuri’s fist, murmuring unintelligibly, but the sounds are encouraging. Yuri can feel it when Katsuki comes, when Yuuri reaches his climax, and he makes sure his hands are gentle as he finishes him off. 

“God,” Yuri whispers because he can’t figure out what the fuck to say but he has to say something because that was so damn good. 

Katsuki flops over to his side and laughs a little, breathless and light, his eyes full of pleasure and satisfaction. He rests his hand over Yuri’s chest and splays his fingers out over his still rapidly beating heart. 

Yuri wipes them off with the sheet then balls it up and throws it, trying to avoid their clothes but not paying too much attention. Katsuki makes a noise of thanks and throws his leg over Yuri’s to pull himself close. Yuri decides he likes the feeling of Katsuki on his side, wrapped around Yuri, like he belongs to him and him alone. 

How long has he been lying to himself? Yuri lets himself run his fingers through Katsuki’s hair, not even hiding his pleased look when Katsuki sighs and tries to burrow his head closer to Yuri. It started out as a mistake, Yuri won’t lie to himself about that, because he’d been so pissed off at Katsuki for winning. For some bizarre reason Katsuki went along with the sex, probably because he’s such a tight ass that Yuri is the only one willing to put up with it. 

But somewhere along the way it had stopped being a mere release of Yuri’s frustrations and had become something softer. It’s almost a relationship, even if it is a little weird and had started all wrong. He’s too calm and satisfied to pretend to gag but the thought idly passes through his head. 

“Come visit me in Hasetsu,” Katsuki murmurs into his shoulder. 

Yuri lets himself drift as Katsuki begins to pepper his skin with soft kisses. He vaguely knows what Katsuki’s family home looks like but Katsuki doesn’t use his social media like he’s supposed to. It’s a known fact that it’s an onsen but he’s still not exactly sure what a hot springs inn looks like. 

Rather than answer he inhales, soft and gentle, as Katsuki’s hand starts stroking his cock. It’s easier to push his hips forward and moan than it is to think about what that invitation means. He understands this relationship of skin and pleasure. Wanting more is dangerous.

But Katsuki won’t be around for this anymore. He’s retired.

“Shit, shit,” Yuri says because he’s losing his hard on even though it all feels so damn good. He doesn’t want Katsuki to leave him. Yuri turns his head away and covers his face with his arm. He’s blushing and embarrassed because Katsuki is going to say something and he can’t bear it. 

Katsuki slows down though he keeps his hand on Yuri’s thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. 

“Are...uh...are you okay? I-I’m not trying to say anything but-” 

Yuri kisses him because he does not want to talk to Katsuki about his traitor of a dick. It’s much easier to press his lips against Katsuki’s.

“Please don’t,” he says, and if his voice is a little hoarse and pitiful, Katsuki doesn’t respond. He simply kisses him back, his hand settling comfortably on his stomach. 

Yuri sighs, ridiculously content with just lying there entangled with Katsuki. His mind is relaxed and it pokes about at a lazy pace until it settles on Katsuki’s earlier suggestion.

“I-if I were to go…” Yuri trails off because he doesn’t know what he wants to say. He presses Katsuki a little closer. Katsuki looks a bit lost and confused before he picks up on what Yuri is talking about.

“I’m not doing anything this summer,” Katsuki says then pauses. “Okay, well, I am, but not until May. You could come down for a weekend to see if you like it? I know Yakov has a lot of your summer planned with shows and trainings but-” 

“Who cares about Yakov’s plans?” Yuri says, half serious. He runs his fingers across Katsuki’s back. “Tell me about Hasetsu. I want to know if it’s awesome enough for me.” 

Katsuki smiles so soft and when he starts talking, there’s an excited tone that Yuri doesn’t recall having heard ever from him as he talks about his first ice rink and his mother’s cooking, the friends and family he’s left behind for so long so he could follow his heart to skate on a world stage. Yuri’s heart sinks a little because it’s clear that Katsuki really means it, that he misses his home. He can’t hate Katsuki for wanting that. 

But interspersed throughout that longing is where Katsuki mentions places he thinks Yuri will like, people he has to introduce Yuri to, or what they’ll do if he goes, and it warms him each time he hears it. The description of the hot springs sounds particularly delightful and Yuri laughs when Katsuki stammers about how they’ll have to be naked for it, considering their current position. 

Katsuki drifts off, words slowing down until he stops talking altogether, but he’s not quite asleep. He seems more like he’s enjoying being pressed up against Yuri and talking was taking his attention away from that. Yuri doesn’t say anything, feeling like he’s halfway asleep himself, lulled there by the soothing sound of Katsuki’s voice as he had spoken about his family more in that one conversation than all the years they’ve known one another.

Katsuki is leaving the ice but it doesn’t seem like he wanted to leave Yuri. He shifts so his face is closer to Katsuki’s; they’ve never done this, actually slept in bed together, and Yuri can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. It’s hard to sleep when all he wants to do is memorize Katsuki’s stupid face.

Katsuki smiles at him and presses a lazy kiss to his lips. It’s a thousand times easier than Yuri had thought possible to be together like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started a separate writing blog because it's unwieldy to have everything smashed in one but mostly because I like to complain about how long these chapters can get and my friend just laughs at me. 
> 
> @ scribblyorro.tumblr.com

**St Petersburg, Russia**   
**April 2016**

“Don’t bring your fucking dog to the rink,” Yuri snarls once he sees why Victor is late again. His harsh stop sends dust flying but the barrier protects Victor from getting hit with it. It’s petty but Yuri isn’t in the mood for games. He sits down on the bench to give his feet a break before Yakov orders him off the ice or back home. 

Yuri has had to sit in Yakov’s office for the past hour since he locked him in there with strict orders to come out with ideas for his next season. Yakov didn’t even give him a chance to put his skates on. It would have been humiliating.

But Yuri has nothing because all he can think about is Katsuki’s last skate and his standing invitation. 

Katsuki has been texting him and if Yuri had been expecting something then he would have been disappointed. All he does is talk about his day and honestly, Hasetsu sounds perfect for a boring guy like Katsuki. He helps out at the onsen, he jogs, he eats, and he sleeps. It’s absolutely ridiculous and stupid that Yuri dives for his phone each time he hears a notification go off. Katsuki never says anything interesting no matter what kind of topic Yuri brings up.

He doesn’t say anything truly boring either though and he’s mentioned that he’s still keeping up his training regime, slightly relaxed to accommodate his family’s cooking and since he’s not going to compete anymore. Katsuki had said he was lined up for some ice shows over the summer. 

Yuri doesn’t care, of course, because they’re all in Japan. There’s no way he could up and leave everything on a whim to go see him perform. He’s got next year to train for. He could sweep it all with Katsuki out of the picture. He intends to do just that. 

Yuri keeps repeating it himself but there’s no fire in his thoughts. 

Yakov takes pity on him when he looks inside and sees Yuri absolutely lost. It’s hidden under a harsh bark to get his ass onto the ice and Yuri barely manages to summon a glare at Yakov before gracelessly running to get his skates on. 

But then Victor Nikiforov shows up here with his goddamn pet like he owns the whole place and Yuri glares at the innocent animal. He wants to skate, not have to deal with her idiot master. 

“But she gets so lonely at home,” Victor says and he kneels down so the dog can lick his face. He’s dressed in comfortable jeans and a loose t-shirt but he doesn’t look like he’s ready for a day of practice and training. “Don’t you, girl?” 

“It’s going to take a crap here. Yakov! Get this animal out of here!” 

Yakov is on the other side of the rink but judging by the glare he gives Yuri, this is a fight he’s already given up on. Yuri fumes because he could have never gotten away with this bullshit but here’s Victor, waltzing in and doing as he pleases. The favorite is obvious.

“Makkachin is a lady,” Victor says in a scandalized tone. “She would never.” 

“I don’t fucking care-”

“I bet Yuuri would be much nicer to you,” Victor says as he presses his face to Makkachin’s, rubbing his cheek against her snout. She seems used to the gesture because she stays in place and doesn’t turn to try to lick him.

Yuri stomps away, well aware of which of them Victor means and quickly takes to the ice while ignoring Yakov’s shout that he’s supposed to be working on his spins today, not his jumps. This is supposed to be his successor? God, he’s never going to retire at this rate if Victor is what’s supposed to follow him. Russia deserves better than this spoiled, arrogant brat. Or better yet he’s just going to kill Victor and be done with it all. It’ll save everyone a shitload of trouble, he’s sure.

“You have a lot of energy,” Georgi says when Yuri gets off the ice to replace a broken lace. He’s in the middle of stretching, grunting a little as he forces himself as far as he can bend. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Yuri asks. He wants to laugh at how stiff Georgi is but he keeps it to himself. It’s not like he’s much better, not anymore. 

“I don’t know.” Georgi shakes his head. He gets up and cracks his knuckles. 

“Bullshit,” Yuri says. 

“Oh, Makkachin is here,” Georgi says, attention well diverted from Yuri as the dog hears her name and trots over to Georgi. 

“Where’s your idiot owner?” Yuri asks as Georgi pats Makkachin on the head. The dog obviously can’t answer and while Yuri is a cat person, he can admit she’s a decent enough dog; far better than what Victor probably deserves but whatever. Victor has dragged her to the rink often enough that she’s familiar with the layout and sure enough, after a few moments, she heads off to find attention elsewhere. 

“I saw him heading to Yakov’s office,” Georgi says. 

That would explain why he wasn’t dressed to train. Other than that it raises more questions than answers.

“Who goes there willingly?” Yuri asks. He’s a little worried now, in a general kind of way, because being summoned into Yakov’s office means something drastic and serious like when Yakov has to tell a skater they can no longer skate competitively. The door muffles screams and sobs but never silences them.

Or when he decides to tell a skater to get their ass in shape because his rival retiring doesn’t mean he can just sit around moping. Yuri protested the last part because he doesn’t pout like a teenager. But Yakov had shut the door in his face.

Georgi shrugs and sits down to lace up. 

“Who knows what that Victor thinks.”

“You and Mila should,” Yuri says. 

“We should, no?” Georgi says, stopping in place to look back at Yuri. 

He raises his eyebrows at Georgi’s pensive look, the way he’s oriented himself to face Yuri once more. Yuri won’t ever say it out loud but Mila and Georgi are his friends. At most, he’ll talk about how they’re both skilled skaters and that they are rinkmates but that’s all you’ll get out of him. He figures Victor is the newest addition to that party, especially since Yuri detests the kid. It’s exactly the kind of shit Mila and Georgi find hilarious.

“All I know is you had better watch out this year, Yuri. A lot of people are saying he’s going to be Russia’s future.” 

“He’ll have to beat me first and that’s not going to happen,” Yuri says. Katsuki is gone and Yuri is going to take what should have been his all along. He doesn’t have time to visit Japan to soak in a stupid hot tub or wander around a boring town. Yuri is going to dominate.

Georgi blinks at him but can obviously sense a lost cause and leaves him to head onto the ice. But Yuri can admit Victor is too good of a skater to be held back in Juniors. And he can remember what it was like, even though he hadn’t cared about the jealousy and whispers behind his back. Yuri had medals to win and records to break. He didn’t have time for friends. 

Yuri finishes re-lacing his skates and gets back to skating. He absently watches as Makkachin avoids the junior skaters and makes her way to the youngest group. She’s jumping around with the novice skaters who are supposed to be cooling down, her friendly barks echoing as they all roll around. 

Yuri frowns a little and he’s about to skate over to them when the door to Yakov’s office opens. It’s not slammed but the dreaded noise attracts everyone’s attention all the same. It isn’t until Victor comes out, smiling and still alive, that people turn away. 

Victor merrily waves to him and Yuri mimes gagging, though he’s happy to see Victor collect his dog and leave in record time. Yuri is sure he was never that bad as a teenager. He was too busy trying to win to pull shit like this. 

Yakov looks slightly confused as he follows Victor out and he rubs at his forehead. 

“What the hell did that dumbass say?” Yuri asks as he glides over and leans across the barrier. He’s half nosy and half concerned for Yakov, because he’s not yelling or making gruff, brutal comments at Victor. 

“I have no clue. Something about needing a change of direction and following his heart. It sounded like one of those pop songs Georgi plays to warm up,” Yakov says. “My head hurts when that Victor talks.” 

“That’s how I feel. All the time. Just looking at his stupid face is enough,” Yuri says. Yakov grunts but doesn’t admonish him. 

“Yura, back to practice. Your spins this time.” 

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” Yuri says and decides that after dealing with Victor, he can indulge Yakov. 

He quickly puts Victor out of his mind but then it’s Katsuki in the forefront of his thoughts again. It’s always like that when he works on his step sequences and spins though. All he can think about is how smooth Katsuki moves on the ice, butter soft, and yet clean as the lines he draws. As if he belongs there, could never exist off from it and Yuri wants to watch him dance again even as he knows the reality. 

Katsuki was born to skate and he’s thrown it all away for what? Yuri doesn’t have an answer but he hopes Katsuki has a good one. 

**Detroit, United States**   
**September 2008**

The United States starts their school year in August and that’s not even the most confusing part of the move. It’s the thousand of little differences that confuse him, from how busy the university is to how grossly rude some people can be. The buses are always late and the exchange rate keeps confusing him no matter how many times he looks it up. And everything is so bright and loud. He misses Osaka. He yearns for Hasetsu.

But the ice is still good and he can admit that the Detroit Skating Club’s rink is the largest he’s ever called home. In the early morning he can skate across the expanse by himself and it’s like being free. 

It doesn’t take long for the rink to fill up though. There are so many people that are signed up for the space that Yuuri wishes he was back at Ice Castle. There’s something to be said for an empty town. It’s impossible to skate with abandon here; he can avoid the physical bodies around him but he can never ignore the judging eyes. 

And the worst part is that he’s sure no one is paying attention to him, that they’re all more concerned with their own skating rather than watching Yuuri fall, but knowing that doesn’t stop the crawling sensation over his skin. 

Yuri readjusts his headphones and sets the music for his free program on repeat. His program was happily choreographed by Yamaguchi-san though he can still see her suggestion for a quad toe loop as his last jump written in bright blue with stars drawn around it. It’s supposed to be encouraging and playful. Yuuri doesn’t have the heart to tell her it’s terrifying, how much faith she has in him when he’s done nothing but fail and waste her talents.

Triple flip and he lands clean and right, but it’s only the first jump in the program. Skating is easiest when he goes into the step sequences, and he builds his momentum up. He’s not fond of the cantilever but it looks good, and it fits so he keeps it despite his distaste for the move. 

Sometimes he wishes figure skating didn’t include jumps but that’s only when he can’t land them. It’s fantastic when he does manage a solid landing and he never wants it to end. 

He steps out of his triple loop and Yuuri grits his teeth. This should be easy enough for him. He’s been doing triples since his junior days. Why can’t he do anything right?

Yuuri fights to land the next triple axel and he should stop now. But he’s always been a stubborn fool and he gathers speed for the triple salchow, single loop, triple toe combination.

Yuuri falls on the triple salchow and he lies still instead of getting up to finish the program. He probably won’t even bruise but he can’t get up. The song plays itself out and begins to repeat. He doesn’t think about how it will look to everyone else. All that runs through his head is that he’s wasting everyone’s time. He can’t win anything, can’t finish a simple run through during practice, so how is he supposed to finish it during an actual competition? 

Someone skates over to him and offers a hand up, and Yuuri listlessly takes it. He nods when they ask if he’s okay and he stands there for a moment until he catches Celestino’s eyes. Celestino doesn’t have to say anything. 

Yuuri goes over to him and steps off the ice. He’s still adrift and moving slowly, not injured, but not really present. It’s hard to describe the feeling to someone, all the more that people tend to look at him like he’s absolutely crazy the few precious times he’s tried. Yuuri takes his headphones out and stops the music so he can properly listen to Celestino scold him for his utter incompetence.

“Take a break,” Celestino orders and Yuuri slides down until he’s on the floor, staring at his skates. 

Celestino is probably staring at him, wondering why in the world he decided to take on this weird boy as a student but anything else would take up too much energy for Yuuri. The bench a few steps away seems so far and he wishes he were just tired; this exhaustion that never leaves him seems to sit in his very bones and soul. 

“I don’t think I should be here,” Yuuri says as he looks down at his feet. He lets his skate scrape against the concrete a little, even as he knows he shouldn’t. The sound is grounding now that he doesn’t have ice underneath him.

“Why would you say that?” Celestino asks and he sounds confused. Yuuri doesn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if it’s genuine. Yamaguchi-san had nothing but kind words about him though so he probably is sincere. 

“I’m no good,” Yuuri says. “Not good.” 

“If it’s about your English you’ve got a very good grasp of it. I’m not worried about it. You’ll finish picking up what you need to know.” 

Yuuri shakes his head. The language barrier is something he was expecting and far worse than even he had imagined. And it has barely crossed his mind. 

He can’t explain in any language that he’s not enough. People he knows, that he loves and love him in return, even complete strangers from around the world all seem to think he has the talent and skills to become someone great. But he’s only Katsuki Yuuri and no matter how many times he repeats that, no one seems to understand what he’s talking about. 

He could scream but the sound always lodges itself in his throat before it can come out. Silence is as much his friend as it is his curse. But it’s worked, to smile a little and set someone else at ease as he tries to claw that inexplicable wrongness out from under his skin. 

Yuuri presses his fingernails into his skin, not enough to hurt but so that he can feel his blunt nails, as if that could be enough to remind him that he can’t do it. It’s not physically possible, much as he wish it were, to rip out the parts of him that drag him down. He’d tear himself to shreds because it’s all of him and it only makes him sink further to see what no one else can, to know that he’s so pathetic and weak but unable to fight it. 

Celestino grunts and eases himself down to sit beside Yuuri. It’s enough to surprise Yuuri into looking over at him. 

“Let me coach you for the year,” Celestino says. “I won’t promise you gold or world records. Victory has to come from you. I’m here to help but I can’t do that if you’re not willing to let me.” 

“I-I’ll work hard, if that’s what you’re asking?” Yuuri says.

“No, I know you will. What I’m asking is that you trust in me a little because I want to take you as far as you can go. And I think you can make it all the way to the top. I know we’re still strangers but I’d like to be your friend too. So I’m not asking you to trust in me blindly; you’re too smart for that. I’m really asking for enough time so that you can see I’m serious about this, about you.” Celestino pauses. He looks out onto the ice then back at Yuuri with a kind smile that actually does settle Yuuri’s nerves a little. “I’m excited to work with you, Yuuri. I think you have something special. Your skating is like nothing I’ve ever seen and I know the judges will agree with me.” 

He doesn’t think Celestino is lying but Yuuri wants to scream out that he’s wrong. Yuuri isn’t anyone special. His skating isn’t anything special. If it were he would have won something by now, right? 

Celestino’s name is just going to get added to the list of people Yuuri disappoints. 

But he nods his head because he wants so badly to win. It’s a piece of himself that Yuuri hides because ambition is all well and good but it’s not something to flaunt. It’s better to force a smile and talk about how he wants to do his best. 

He gets up and starts to head back to the ice when Celestino stops him with a gentle touch on his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to go back. You can go home or go eat or whatever you need to do. I don’t know if being on the ice is best for you right now,” Celestino says. He’s trying to be helpful but all Yuuri can parse is that Celestino must think he’s so weak. 

“I want to skate,” Yuuri says because it’s true. 

“Okay. If that’s what you really want, then I won’t stop you,” Celestino says and Yuuri swallows a little. 

“I-I do.” 

“Then go.” 

Yuuri steps onto the ice but keeps a hand on the barrier. Celestino is still watching him, waving off another student who skates over to try to talk to him. Yuuri looks up at him and all he sees is concern. He swallows a bit of his fear and frustration down.

“I won’t try any more jumps, if that makes you feel better?” Yuuri says. 

“It would,” Celestino says, and he visibly relaxes at that. 

Yuuri blinks, unsure of what exactly is happening, but he skates off as Celestino calls the previous student back. 

Yuuri skates without purpose for a while, only aware enough to avoid crashing into anyone, and once his head is a little clearer, he goes into his choreographic sequence. Even though he can’t take up the whole of the rink, it feels good.

Yuuri glances at Celestino again but he’s occupied with a pair of skaters. He probably would have approved at that last run through though. Yuuri goes into a lazy spin, not concerned with his form, simply enjoying the feeling. 

This move to another country still feels like a mistake. But meeting Celestino doesn’t seem to be part of that.

**Hasestu, Japan**   
**April 2016**

Yuuko doesn’t say anything as she walks up to Ice Castle where Yuuri is waiting as planned. She runs up and hugs Yuuri as tightly as possible. Yuuri hugs her back and is thankful that she doesn’t cry. He doesn’t have to leave come September. He’s home now

“I’m glad you came early. The girls are still asleep,” Yuuko says. 

“That’s why,” Yuuri jokes as she unlocks the front doors. 

The reality is that Ice Castle is much busier these days and early mornings are more readily available for private sessions. Wednesdays he’ll have to come in the afternoon since those mornings are booked for the coach who trains her skaters here. There are three competitive skaters who train out of Hasestu now, one senior and two juniors plus however many novice and beginner skaters, and Yuuri is so proud of them even though he hasn’t been around to talk to them much. 

That’ll be changing soon, a fact that the three of them are inexplicably excited about. Their coach, a young woman who goes by Sae-kun, is equally thrilled. Yuuri is looking forward to watching them grow and compete but Sae-kun is a good coach and he has no intention of stealing students from her. She came all the way from Ishikawa which Yuuri still can’t fathom; Hasestu will always be a sleepy town by the sea to him, no matter how much he knows the reality has changed.

Yuuko hurries to open the rink properly even as Yuuri assures her that she doesn’t need to rush about. Yuuri takes the chance to look around; he can still remember it from his youth though it’s been upgraded here and there. Takeshi says that there’s been talk from the JSF wanting to renovate the whole place since it’s where Yuuri got his start but it’s hard to believe that anyone would go through that much trouble for him.

He has to avert his eyes from the walls filled with newspaper clippings of his more local victories, official posters, and the shelf of medals and trophies that he has let Ice Castle borrow. Takeshi likes to grumble about how he has to clean them every day to make sure they’re spotless and it never fails to embarrass Yuuri. 

If Yuuko is around she admonishes him for lying since the triplets are the ones who clean them now. They refuse to let Takeshi touch them and fight for the chore. 

And Yuuri has seen Takeshi showing them off almost as fervently as he introduces the triplets. 

He’s only just finished warming up when Yuuko comes back around. 

“Can I watch you?” Yuuko asks, already settling against the barrier. 

Yuuri nods, thankful that she asks, though she could have watched him from the office and he would have been none the wiser. He steps onto the ice and fights back the silly grin that fights to make itself visible. He’s skated in some truly impressive arenas but there is no place like Ice Castle. 

“Any requests?” He asks, hands behind his back as he absently skates around, slow enough that he can still pay attention to Yuuko. 

“A million. Can you do _Chest_?” 

“What?” Yuuri asks with a laugh. It’d been for an exhibition skate but aside from that he can’t conjure up any of the steps. The only thing he can remember is the embarrassment when he’d performed it because it wasn’t really his style at all. He comes to a stop in front of the barrier where Yuuko is. “That was from my _junior_ days, Yuuko-chan. I don’t remember that far back!” 

“It was one of my favorites and you know it. How can you not remember it?” Yuuko says with a forlorn sigh. She drops the fake expression after a moment. “Then your free skate. I want to see it in person.” 

Yuuri nods and he’s not surprised that she pulls out her own phone to set up the sound system. He closes his eyes as he readies himself for the first notes. Part of him wishes that she hadn’t requested _Andante Festivo_ because he’s not sure if he’s ready to dance to it so soon. But he can’t deny Yuuko and he’d known she would ask for it. 

He never holds back for Yuuko; she deserves every triple axel and quad he can manage. Yuuri does the same for Minako-sensei. He owes them all so much for believing and supporting him. There’s no way he could have become what he is today without his family and friends beside him. No matter how many times he’s repeated the words to interviews and reporters they never fail to be true. 

Yuuri falls on the triple lutz, two foots the quad salchow landing, and as galling as it is to be unable to give Yuuko the performance she wants, he’s a little removed from his usual headspace. It’s sort of like at Worlds, where he was skating for a reason, and sometimes that’s enough to quiet his mind. 

For a moment he can still hear the audience cheering, the sound ringing in his head as he finishes, and his eyes are wet. He covers it by grabbing his water bottle and sucking in as much as he can before skating back over to Yuuko.

“I can’t believe you retired after that,” Yuuko says with tears in her eyes. She wipes them away before they can fall. 

“Sorry,” he says, unsure of what to actually say. 

“Oh, stop that,” she says. “You can’t skate like that forever. I get it.” 

His stomach drops at hearing her words, and there’s a chill running across him that has nothing to do with the ice. Yuuri steps off the rink so he can sit. Yuuko comes over to sit by his side. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. 

“Thank you,” Yuuko says. She looks at him but Yuuri is still staring down at his feet. “I wish I had gone to more of your competitions.” 

“It’s fine,” Yuuri says because it is. It was. His parents had the onsen to run, Yuuko and Nishigori had work, Minako-sensei had students to teach, and of course no one could go to all of his competitions. That’s not it. 

“What’s wrong?” Yuuko asks.

Yuuri shakes his head, but it’s only because he can’t find the words he needs. He picks at the fabric of his sweatpants, throwing away a few of the pills before he begins to speak.

“I don’t know what I want to do now,” Yuuri admits. He sighs and looks up from his skates. Yuuko is watching him but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t look worried though. “There’s a lot I can do, right? Everyone keeps telling me that. But nothing feels right.” 

“It’s a big change, isn’t it? Maybe it’s okay that you don’t have an answer,” Yuuko says, soft and gentle. Sometimes Yuuri can’t believe that she’s grown up and is a mother; he can still remember the pranks they pulled on their old rink instructor and all the times they snuck out to skate late at night. But right now he could never doubt it. They’ve all matured. 

“Everyone keeps asking me,” Yuuri explains. 

Yuuko looks a little embarrassed that she’s included in that group but Yuuri really does mean everyone. His parents are fine with him taking a year off to stay at home but they’ll need an answer from him as well. And he can’t blame anyone but he simply doesn’t know.

“Have you thought about coaching?” Yuuko asks. “The girls really love learning from you. Honestly, they listen a lot better to you than they do Takeshi or me. And as much as they love Sae-kun they argue with her all the time.”

“I-I can’t believe that,” Yuuri says because as much as he loves Axel, Lutz, and Loop, he will never deny how unruly they can be. 

“You say spin, they spin. You say jump, they jump. You tell them that they need to mind their free leg, that their edges are sloppy, that they’re going too fast, and they don’t scream back at you that you don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s called listening, Yuuri, and they don’t do that for everyone.” Yuuko studies him for a minute. “Tell them that your room is always clean, okay? And that you always did your chores when asked.” 

“I can do the first one. But I definitely ran off to skate and Mari got stuck doing a lot of my chores,” Yuuri says as he thinks back with a guilty smile. He’d gotten in trouble for it plenty of times.

“Don’t say anything about that part,” Yuuko says. She rocks her feet side to side. “What about choreography? Yours were always so beautiful.” 

“Do you remember the fiasco that was _Phantom of the Opera_?” Yuuri asks dryly. He should have known better than to pick a warhorse song.

“Oh yeah, one of your first tries, and everyone but you liked it.” Yuuko waves him off with a laugh. She’s as familiar with the overused song selections as he is but Yuuko enjoys them far more than Yuuri does. “You’re too picky.” 

Yuuri shrugs and lets her think whatever she wants to. Nothing can dissuade Yuuko once she’s put her mind to something. (If that sounds similar to a certain person, or say three, Yuuri keeps it to himself.)

Yuuko stands up and pats him on the head once. Yuuri looks up at her, pretending to frown. 

“You’ll figure it out. You’re taking the year off, right? I think you deserve the vacation. Don’t worry so much about it! The answer will come to you. And worst case you can just go back to competing.” 

“I really can’t,” Yuuri says, laughing a little despite himself. Yuri-kun’s reaction would be newsworthy.

“Sure you could. You’re Katsuki Yuuri. If anyone could do it, you could,” Yuuko says and Yuuri doesn’t stop smiling but he does stop laughing. People say that to him as if it means something and he’s not entirely sure what it’s supposed to actually signify. 

But Yuuri can tell she’s mostly joking. Yuuko returns to work and Yuuri goes back to skating. Yuuko tried to compete at the National level and she insists she didn’t have the drive or skill. He disagrees about the skill but competitive figure skating demands commitment bordering on obsession. It’s not for everyone though Yuuri can’t imagine having done anything else. 

He’ll have to now. Yuuri sets about focusing on his programs for the upcoming summer ice shows. He can stress about his uncertain future later. 

**World Figure Skating Championships**   
**Turin, Italy**   
**March 2010**

Yuri barely misses the podium with a fourth place finish. He’s pissed at everything but mostly at himself. It’s not even right to say he barely missed the podium. He was twenty one points away from the bronze medalist and the fifth place skater was only two points from his own score. 

He’d fallen on the quad toe loop and had hung onto his quad salchow by the skin of his teeth. Even Yakov had been surprised when he hadn’t gotten a negative GOE for the salchow. 

Yuri glares at his phone, unsure if he’s more pissed off at the articles and commentators remarking on his dismal performance or the ones who are chipper and encouraging. They’re both disgusting. 

He lets the screen fade to black and looks up through his long bangs. The moment he got a chance he stripped his glittery outfit off, not wanting to be the center of attention when all he had was a failure of a showing. 

He turns his phone on again to search through another round of tweets. Yakov will probably take it away as soon as he gets back from conferring with the event organizes. He seems to think Yuri will be chosen for the exhibition skate on Sunday. But Yuri isn’t holding his breath. 

Yuri sucked, plain and simple, and there’s no point in wasting time on a potato medal when people can fawn over the actual winners. 

He shuts his phone off again and glares at everyone who makes the mistake of making eye contact with him in the hotel lobby. The moment he’d stepped off the ice after his free skate, he’d known he wouldn’t be making it to the podium. It’d taken every remaining drop of strength left in him to sit through the scores. 

He doesn’t want to be in his room though, since he’s sharing with Georgi, who is probably thrilled over cracking the top ten. Yuri can’t fathom that kind of idiotic happiness. What’s the point of competing if not to win? Anything less than gold is unacceptable. There’s only one medal that’s worth fighting for though he guesses that someone can be content with a silver if Yuri is meant to win.

Yuri gets up, making sure his hood is flipped over his head, trying to keep a low profile to avoid his rabid fans. He needs to burn this energy off but he’s exhausted from his skate. But there’s no way he’d be able to sleep, not when he’s this keyed up with frustration and vitriol. Yuri stomps through the hallways and ends up running across Katsuki, who he nearly misses seeing because he’s tucked away in a corner, talking on the phone in his native language. 

Katsuki sighs and drops his phone from his ear, looking off at nothing in particular. It’s a good defeated look and Yuri is almost shocked that he can get any angrier. He gets in Katsuki’s face and it’s not until Yuri is about a meter from him that Katsuki realizes he’s even there. 

“What the fuck was that?” Yuri demands. 

“What?” Katsuki says. He’s confused and that doesn’t help even though later on Yuri will realize that he could have started that conversation out better. 

“You. Today. On the ice.” 

Katsuki stares at him for a moment then gives him a bland smile. 

“Congrats,” Katsuki says. 

“Don’t try to distract me with my failure. We’re talking about your piss poor showing. How do you go from silver at GPF to, what the hell did you even get? Twentieth?” 

“Sixteenth,” Katsuki says. He adjusts his glasses and does not meet Yuri’s look. Yuri thinks he hit a sore spot but if this is what incites some kind of reaction then this is how he’s going to do it. He wants to see some passion in this stupid, tired looking old man. 

“How did they even let you into this competition?” Yuri sneers. 

Katsuki blinks at him, slow and far too steady, but Yuri can’t see anything in his eyes. He briefly smiles then shrugs, seeming small despite being slightly taller than Yuri. 

“I guess they had no one better,” Katsuki says. 

“Do better next year,” Yuri says shortly. He doesn’t look at Katsuki’s reaction nor wait around for a response. Katsuki never chases him down anyway. 

But he can still see Katsuki’s final combination spin, the way he had moved from a forward camel to a shotgun, controlled and perfectly centered, and Yuri softens a little. He turns to see Katsuki’s face is carefully blank but his hand is clutching his phone tightly enough that Yuri wonders if he’ll be hearing the plastic crack soon. It’s good to know that his words struck a chord. 

Yuri can’t do keep up his momentum after falling, and Yakov has already told him that they’re going to work on his spins this coming year. Katsuki can mess up all his jumps but his steps and spins are still crisp and polished, even in the second half of his program.

“I’ll do better next year too,” Yuri says and Katsuki’s smile is a little brighter, more real. 

“Davai,” he says and Yuri has to turn away quickly because holy fuck. Katsuki learned how to say good luck in Russian and Yuri is arrogant enough to be sure it was for him. 

None of that explains why he’s blushing and like hell he is going to let anyone see it. Especially Katsuki, the stupid bastard, with his dumbass smiles and good looks. Fuck him. He should learn how to land a jump, not how to mess with Yuri like this, because it’s not fucking fair. Stupid, stupid, stupid Yuuri Katsuki. 

**Hasestu, Japan**   
**April 2016**

“I’m going to get fat,” he says with a joking smile as his mom serves him the bowl of katsudon for his lunch. He still picks up his chopsticks. “I still have ice shows later this summer, remember?” 

“But you’re home now,” Hiroko says with a clap of her hands. She tilts her head a little to the side and smiles. “Is it so wrong for a mother to want to feed her boy?” 

“You’re going to make me fat,” Yuuri pretends to whine and she laughs at him. He still eats, of course, because he dreamt of this moment for years upon years. It’s not a proper homecoming without katsudon, warm and fresh from his mother’s kitchen. 

Yuuri finishes his bowl, blissfully satisfied, though he really will have to make it clear that he cannot have such rich food every day. But his mother is still giddy over his return and he doesn’t have the heart to have such harsh words with her yet. 

He takes his bowl to wash it but Hiroko whisks it away before he can even set it in the sink. Yuuri indulges her and sits beside the window, watching as she cooks. It’s much like when he was younger though thankfully he doesn’t have homework now. 

Hiroko looks up at him every few seconds with a beaming expression, no doubt reminiscing about the same. 

Yuuri had helped out as a boy, taking out the trash, washing dishes, and retrieving anything that needed to be replaced. Mari had always been more involved with the business aspects of the inn and he supposes it’s because they all envisioned something different for him. He smiles a little at how much faith his family had in him even back then. 

“Should I go see if Mari-neechan needs help?” Yuuri asks. It’s late but he feels the need to be helpful. He’s already getting up when Hiroko shakes her head at him to sit back down.

“She’ll call if she needs an extra pair of hands.” Hiroko smiles. “Between Ishimoto-chan and Yasuhiro-kun she has plenty of help. She’s thinking about hiring someone else to help with the cooking though. Can you believe it? She’d have two workers!” 

“I think Yasuhiro-kun counts too,” Yuuri says. Mari’s husband is a nice man but Yuuri hasn’t had much opportunity to talk to him. And honestly, he’s not really sure what Mari sees in him, but she married him so as long as she’s happy, Yuuri doesn’t feel like he has the right to say anything more. From what Yuuri has heard, he’d worked as hard as Mari had to get the new onsen up and running. 

It’d been after Yuuri’s second World’s win and the resulting round of sponsorships that the Katsukis had decided they could buy one of the old abandoned onsen in the city. Yuuri has watched the Yuutopia Hinode rise up to become a stable business. He helped out with cleaning it out when he came to Hasetsu during the summer and he can still remember the day they held its grand opening.

“Hiroko-san, old man Iruka is drunk and he won’t get out of the onsen again,” Haruna-chan says, running into the kitchen. She pushes her hair out of her face where it’s come loose from her ponytail and flushes when she sees Yuuri. Her gaze drops to her apron. “I-I’ve told him to get out but he won’t listen.”

Hiroko sighs. She fixes a stern look on Haruna-chan who ducks her head further downward and Yuuri is glad he’s not the recipient of it. He’s not certain what Haruna-chan’s role is in the future of Yuutopia but she’s been working here for two years now. Iruka-san isn’t the first old man to get drunk and belligerent on the premises nor will he be the last. 

“Where’s Toshiya?” 

“He’s not back yet from Hinode,” Haruna-chan says.

“Let me handle it?” Yuuri asks and Hiroko shakes her head. “Then I’ll finish here so you can go.” 

“You’re going to have to learn how to handle incidents like this,” Hiroko gently scolds her as she wipes her hands. “Thank you, Yuuri.” 

Haruna-chan stammers out a thanks as well before running off after Hiroko. It’s the middle of the afternoon so it’s not busy yet, but once evening comes around the crowd picks up. There are eight dedicated workers, along with Hiroko and Toshiya. Yuuri only knows half of them, but he’s going to end up getting to know them all soon now that he’s home.

Yuuri gets his hands elbow deep in the water and scrubs away, humming the songs for his upcoming ice shows. Sae-kun has agreed to help him out with his routines since Yuuri doesn’t have a coach anymore. He’s still mostly relying on taking videos of himself and rewatching them to see what he needs to work on. But it’s much more casual and laid back than his competition training, to the point where Yuuri barely even thinks of it as work. 

Yuuri finishes the dishes and stares at his hands as he dries them off. He hasn’t heard from Yuri-kun since Worlds in regards to him visiting and it’s been two weeks now. Pining isn’t the right word for what he feels but it’s something close. He’d thought something had changed between them, that they’d developed into something more than just angry sex and awkward fumbling along the way. Yuri-kun has fought the idea of a relationship but he’d seemed to want it despite Yuuri’s less than ideal method of announcing his retirement.

Yuuri should have put a stop to it a long time ago. But he hadn’t because he was selfish. Having all of Yuri’s attention fed him in a dark heady way and he couldn’t get enough of it. He never had to ask for Yuri’s gaze on him; he only needed to look out to see Yuri watching him, already riveted. 

Yuuri sighs because he’s a terrible person. He should have said something years ago. 

His phone goes off and Yuuri curses when he catches sight of the caller. He had meant to call Chris at some point and explain himself. There’s probably a series of passive aggressive tweets and photos directed at him that he must have missed at some point. He’s mostly been using his online accounts to talk to Yuri-kun and let the world know that he’s still alive. Phichit had wrangled a promise out of him that he would try to keep his accounts updated now that he wouldn’t be around to harass Yuuri into taking random pictures of his breakfasts and jogs. 

“I like how you planned that disappearing act,” Chris says when Yuuri answers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s what time our flight left. We had no control over that,” Yuuri says. Chris chuckles and shakes his head at him. Yuuri didn’t even remotely think he could fool Chris but he figured the feeble protest would get a laugh out of him. 

“I meant the silence online but there’s that too,” Chris says. He shakes his finger at him. “Naughty Yuuri.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, flushing a little. 

“You could have at least told me,” Chris says. His tone is mild but he’s not looking into the camera lense now; he’s playing with his cat, stroking the top of his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri says again. “I couldn’t. It was selfish. I know. I’ve had a lot of people yelling at me.” 

“I bet that’s been fun,” Chris says. Then he grins a little. “You deserve it, you bastard.” 

Yuuri relaxes at the obvious forgiveness. 

“How are you doing, Chris?” Yuuri asks as he heads to his room. 

“Fine, fine. Everything is good. I’ve had to spend a few days at home since I took a rough fall but I got to catch up on my dvr and clear it out.” Chris’ cat jumps off his lap and he pouts a little at being abandoned before turning back to Yuuri. “I need to start looking at music for next year but if Japan’s Ace isn’t around, what’s the point of competiting?”

“Minami-kun will get there. Just give him time,” Yuuri says. 

He’s not sure how but Minami’s coach Kanako-san managed to extract a promise from Yuuri that he would go and train Minami-kun for two weeks during the summer. Yuuri thinks he was drunk, or tired, or both when he agreed. Minami-kun had posted a video of himself giving a remarkably high pitched scream to celebrate the news. 

Yuuri means it though. Minami-kun has the talent and skills; all he needs are a few more years to finish growing into his skating and then he’ll probably be better than Yuuri. No one believes Yuuri when he says the last part though. 

“It’s going to be boring next year without you,” Chris whines around his mug. It’s morning where Chris is, Yuuri remembers, as he sees Chris curse at his too hot coffee. Yuuri smiles a little.

“You have lots of competition,” Yuuri says, sitting down at his desk and propping his phone up. 

“I guess,” Chris says. He leans his head on one hand. “But they’re not you, Yuuri. You’ve always been about the music and the story. I hear Plisetsky is going to put a quad loop on his roster this year. Rumor only, of course, but he’s not the only one. JJ Leroy is supposedly going to put three quads in his long program. And if JJ is you know Plisetsky will too.” 

“He’s always been more technical, in a way,” Yuuri murmurs and Chris nods sharply. 

“Exactly. I’m an old guy. I don’t know if I have it in me to race these younger kids to see who nails which jump first or who can shove the most quads in.” 

“You’re not that old,” Yuuri says. 

“I’m one of the oldest now,” Chris says, wrinkling his face and taking another drink.

“Yuri-kun is only two years younger than you.” 

“And that won’t stop him. He’s going to be the one leading the charge,” Chris says. 

Yuuri doesn’t say anything to that because Chris is right. Yuri-kun has never shied away from attempting to land the quad loop, lutz and flip, and he documents his attempts religiously. If he had any one of those his base score would be higher than everyone else’s. But he hasn’t managed to be the first yet though Yuuri has never doubted that he’ll achieve one of the quads before he retires. 

“Ask me what I’m going to be doing this summer,” Chris says, disrupting the silence with ease. 

“What?” Yuuri asks.

“Vacationing,” Chris says with a wink. “I’m going to the beach on Friday for a week with my better half. I tried to get Liam to take a month off of work but he’s so responsible sometimes! How did I end up with such a charming fellow, Yuuri?” 

“I ask myself the same question,” Yuuri says with a laugh. 

“It’s because you never agreed to go out with me,” Chris says, affecting a dismayed expression. “We would look so good together.” 

Yuuri shakes his head at Chris, not wanting to laugh but finding it difficult to keep the sound back. It’s a long ongoing joke, so much so that he’s not entirely sure when or where it began. He can definitely say that Chris is the one who started it though.

“Yuuri?” Hiroko knocks at his door and Yuuri looks away from his phone. “I think the new guest is here for you? He looks foreign.” 

“I’m not expecting anyone,” Yuuri says with a frown. 

“Ooh, a mysterious guest. I wish I could say it was me, but I’m happily at home in Switzerland,” Chris says in the background. Yuuri turns the phone over and mutes the app. 

“I think he’s European,” Hiroko says. She puts a hand to her cheek. “Is Russian European? I can’t remember. It’s been awhile since I took Geography!”

‘It’s Yuri-kun,’ he thinks and his heart pounds, nearly as hard and loud as after his last World’s competition. He turns back to his phone. “I have to go, Chris.” 

“-after everything that I’ve done for you, wait, no! Tell me who it is! I want to know!” 

Yuuri shuts the app down entirely without another word. There’s an alert as Chris messages him but Yuuri ignores it in favor of dashing out of his room, calling out his apologies to his mother. Sure enough, Haruna-chan is taking a young man’s luggage in the lobby and explaining the meal times and onsen rules.

He’s Russian but he’s not Yuri. 

Yuuri stops in place, finding the boy familiar looking but unable to place his name. It doesn’t matter because he does recognize Yuuri. He bounds over the second he spots him, a large equally energetic brown dog by his side, and the boy eagerly sticks his hand out for Yuuri to shake.

“My name is Victor Nikiforov and I want you to be my coach!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Hasestu, Japan**  
**April 2016**

Victor forgoes the bath and meal in order to sit down with Yuuri Katsuki, who looks awfully exhausted for someone who has just retired. Victor probably should have messaged him on twitter or called ahead of time but he’s much better at winning someone over in person. 

“I remember you. We talked at the banquet. How is Mr. Feltsman taking this?” Yuuri opens up with from across the table. There are no chairs which is different from what Victor is used to but Yuuri’s posture is stiff and ramrod straight. He had tried to copy the way Yuuri is kneeling but he’d given up after a few seconds.

Victor sips at his green tea, which had been the only recognizable drink that had been offered and which he has newly discovered is not his favorite. It’s not like any green tea he’s had before, and the cloying sweetness is stuck to his mouth. He really wishes he had paid more attention to the name of it because he never ever wants to get it again. 

“About as well as he takes anything,” Victor answers cheerfully because Yuuri remembers him! Who cares what Yakov thinks? “He’s probably mad but I did tell him I wasn’t renewing our coaching contract so I think that’s really all I had to do.” 

Yuuri doesn’t even have to say anything, his look of skepticism is so pointed that Victor wouldn’t be surprised if even Makkachin felt awkward. But of course she doesn’t; she’s busy investigating the room though Victor keeps her close by so she doesn’t disturb the other guests. 

“If I call and ask him, what will he say?” 

“He’ll probably thank someone that I’m not around to bother him,” Victor says with a laugh. Yuuri looks a little alarmed. “Oh, I don’t mean that in a bad way. Yakov is a good coach but he, uh, likes to yell a lot. I think it’s his way of releasing stress.” 

“I wonder why he’s stressed,” Yuuri says. 

“It’s a mystery.” Victor grins and winks, which causes Yuuri to groan a little and shake his head. 

Makkachin stops sniffing around the room and flops down by Victor, her snout directed in Yuuri’s direction. Victor runs his fingers through her fur; travel is exhausting for his poor Makkachin but he plans on staying too long in Japan to leave her behind. 

“Victor, I can’t be your coach,” Yuuri says and his tone is very gentle. 

“Why not?” Victor asks, playing along for now. He wonders if green tea is bad for dogs but there’s probably not a way he can subtly give it to Makkachin when Yuuri is right in front of him giving him his full attention. 

“I’ve never coached anyone before,” Yuuri says. “You’re a talented skater and you deserve someone who can help you the way you need it.” 

“And that’s you!” Victor says. 

There’s a wet noise and Victor looks down in horror to see Makkachin licking his paper roll.

“Makkachin, no!” Victor scolds and she stops, dropping her head back down. She’s not at all dismayed by his tone, the lovable scamp. 

“What is that?” Yuuri asks as Victor wraps a protective hand around the roll and sets it on the table away from Makkachin’s insatiable canine curiosity.

“Oh this?” Victor grins as he rolls the string off and proudly unfurls the paper tube. It’s one of the posters from the train station featuring Yuuri in front of a Japanese building with pink flowers floating around and he stands up to let it hang. Yuuri’s mouth drops open. “It was too beautiful! I had to get one! I didn’t know who to ask but I found a station worker. They were probably confused by my accent, now that I think about it. I just pointed a lot and said ‘Yuuri Katsuki best’. I think they got that I was a fan and that I really needed one of the posters.” 

“O-oh,” Yuuri says.

“You look beautiful in it, don’t worry!” Victor says, rolling it back up. He rubs his cheek against it and gives a dreamy sigh. “I’m so glad I got one. It’s going to be hard to get new posters of you now that you’re retired. I guess that’s good in a way since there’s only so much space on my walls but still!” 

“Space? Walls?” Yuuri repeats.

“It’s not like my whole apartment is a shrine. It’s just my room,” Victor says with a laugh as he sits back down. He pauses and places a finger to his mouth as he thinks. Technically he doesn’t have his posters up since most of his stuff is in storage right now. But it’s not like it’s really a lie because it was true not too long ago. (Like, say, the day before yesterday.) “Although that would be nice, to be able to put all my posters and photos up.” 

Yuuri mouths the word ‘all’ but no sound comes out. Victor stops as he realizes that Yuuri is rather pale and he finishes retying the string around his poster so he can set it down. He’s been told his Yuuri admiration can be a bit much though he’s mostly heard that from Yura who blows hot and cold when it comes to Yuuri. For all that Yura admires Yuuri he’s not very comfortable with letting people know about it.

“That’s not why I came here though,” Victor says. “It’s a bonus. I came here so that you could coach me.” 

“Why me?” Yuuri asks, recovering a little of his color though he still gives the rolled up poster a wary look.

“Why not you?” Victor retorts. “You won Worlds five times in a row. You’re a legend. You got a perfect PCS six different times.” 

“Four of those were at Nationals and everyone knows those numbers are inflated. They don’t even count for ISU scores,” Yuuri points out. 

Victor waves him off. What Yuuri says is very true but he still managed it. Japan has a lot of pride in their ace, rightfully so, and if anyone deserves a perfect score on their presentation and choreography, it’s Yuuri Katsuki. 

“It happened two other times at ISU sanctioned events. Were those flukes? No, of course not. You’re Yuuri Katsuki; if anyone could get a perfect PCS, it would be you,” Victor says with a definitive nod. “And I want to learn from you. My PCS is pretty good but it’s nowhere near perfect. Your step sequences and spins are the best. I need to learn from you.”

“You train with Yakov Feltsman. He only coaches the best. I’ve never coached before. I could be terrible at it,” Yuuri says. 

Victor scoffs at the idea; as if Yuuri Katsuki could be horrible at anything on ice. 

Makkachin makes a noise and Victor realizes with a start that she’s slowly inched her way to Yuuri. She’s usually only this sneaky with food but Yuuri doesn’t seem to have any on him. Yuuri blinks at her then gently pets her head, quickly devolving into scratching behind her ears. 

“She’s cute,” Yuuri offers. 

“Thanks,” Victor says. His idol is petting his dog and complimenting her. Victor may actually die. “I hope it’s okay that she’s here too? I didn’t want to leave her.” 

“I’ll check with my parents but I think you’ll be okay,” Yuuri says. He smiles as Makkachin lays her head on him. “I always wanted a pet but I never asked. It seemed selfish.” 

“Selfish?” Victor asks. 

“I was already asking a lot with my skating,” Yuuri says with a shrug. “And then I moved away for university, then to train. I think I would have been heartbroken at leaving a pet behind so it’s probably for the better.” 

“That makes sense,” Victor says. He still can’t understand why Yuuri would describe himself as ‘selfish’ for wanting a dog but he doesn’t know exactly how to ask. It doesn’t seem right.

“You can stay here or you can stay at our sister inn,” Yuuri says as he gets up, sending Makkachin back to Victor’s side.

“You live here, right?” Yuuri hesitates then nods. “Then I’ll keep my room here. If you’re going to be my coach then we should stay close to each other.” 

“Please stop saying that,” Yuuri says. 

“But Yuuri-” 

“I’m not going to be your coach, Victor,” Yuuri says, putting a hand to his head. It reminds him of Yakov and Victor nearly pulls a face at the realization. “Go rest. You must be exhausted. I’ll wake you up in a few hours so you can eat dinner.” 

Victor doesn’t say anything for a minute. He’s not too surprised by Yuuri’s reaction but he can’t let the rejection get to him yet. This is only the first obstacle, the setting of the stage, and Victor will win over his audience like he always does. The trick is to be confident. He sighs, despondent and wretched, but wipes it away with a smile. 

“Makkachin and I are going on a walk first. She needs to stretch her legs,” Victor says as he gets up, Makkachin following without needing to be told. She’s heard one of her favorite words.

Yuuri nods then hesitates before pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“Give me your number so that if you get lost or into trouble, I can come find you. If you keep to the main roads you should be fine but still.”

“Okay!” Victor doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. He’s getting Yuuri Katsuki’s number! And it was Yuuri’s idea! 

Yuuri winces a little but he texts Victor all the same to be sure the numbers are correct. He tells Victor which of the staff speak enough English and asks that he remain safe before taking his leave. 

Makkachin is a good dog but they are in a new place and so he clips her onto the leash. She doesn’t protest too much after the first initial tug because she’s ready to go explore. Victor laughs at her as he steps off the Yutopia property and begins to meander about. 

It’s hard to say how successful his plan is working out. He’s in Japan, he’s met the Yuuri Katsuki, but Yuuri seems pretty insistent that he’s not coaching material which is laughable. It might be harder to convince him than Victor originally thought. Victor had been planning on assuring Yuuri that he had his guardian’s permission to be here (he did, his uncle had bade him good luck and asked for a souvenir), or that he had the funds to pay for his coaching fee (Yakov was the best and his prices reflected that). 

But this is a different issue and it’s sort of at odds with the politely distant figure that Victor knows from interviews and media. He’s vaguely aware that Yuuri has mentioned being nervous before competitions but everyone gets that way; and Yuuri has a streak of gold medals to his name that proves his nerves don’t stop him. 

Victor hums to himself as he plots his next move and he’s got a hundred ideas batting around in his head. The walk clears away the really foolish ones and he’s got a bounce in his step when he returns to the onsen with a new plan.

He smiles wide and snuggles up to Makkachin for the first of many selfies. It takes a few minutes to get them at a good angle so that the Yu-topia Akatsuki sign is visible and clear in the background. The online reaction is going to be amazing.

**Detroit, United States**  
**October 2014**

“So what’s the deal with this Yuri Plisetsky?” Phichit asks while they’re strength training at the gym on campus and Yuuri almost drops his weights. He relaxes once he realizes that Phichit means it in general terms, not salacious ones. 

“He seems really obsessed with you,” Phichit says. He’s keeping an eye on the time since he’s trying to catch a professor during their limited office hours which is why Yuuri agreed to join him at the university gym instead of the small one at the rink or the one by Yuuri’s apartment. But Phichit has been at this all week and Yuuri thinks that while today he might not mind if he fails, pretty soon it’s going to be a matter of pride. 

Yuuri shrugs. He’s not sure why Yuri-kun has decided to fixate on him but it’s too late now to stop it. If he’d had the mind to do it he should had done it way back in 2008.

“I think he’s going to be mad forever that I kept him from winning gold during his senior debut,” Yuuri says which is probably true. Yuuri has to hide a smile because it’s not like Yuri-kun’s skating history is anything to be ashamed of. He regularly medals and it’s been years since he finished off podium. There are skaters out there who would break kneecaps for that kind of record. 

“Yeah but that was years ago,” Phichit says. 

Yuuri shrugs again and stretches a little before going to the treadmil. Phichit follows but he doesn’t make to join him on the second machine. Instead he’s fixated on his phone. 

“See, everyone knows you don’t care about social media, but he’s always tagging you.” Phichit holds up his phone to show him but Yuuri doesn’t look. He gets the alerts. “I mean, most of the time he’s insulting you and claiming he’s going to beat you, but it doesn’t matter that you never reply. He keeps on doing it.” 

“I really don’t know, Phichit,” Yuuri says. “Yuri Plisetsky does what he wants, right?” 

“Pretty much. I don’t even think his coach can tell him what to do,” Phichit says. 

“Yeah, and if Yakov Feltsman can’t control him, there’s no way I can. Yuri-kun decided we were rivals and that’s it.” 

“Do you consider him your rival?” Phichit asks, looking away from his phone. 

“Uh, I guess, yeah?” Yuuri shrugs. “We both want to win and we’re competing against each other so we’re rivals.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it actually works,” Phichit says. 

Except that’s exactly how it happened. Yuuri doesn’t say anything because he’s not going to get into telling Phichit his long and sordid history with Yuri Plisetsky. He wonders if Phichit suspects something more and what has given him away if so. 

Phichit holds up his phone, silently asking for a selfie, but Yuuri shakes his head. Undismayed, Phichit gives the camera a winning smile.

“There, now Ciao Ciao knows I did my conditioning,” Phichit says. 

“Not the full workout,” Yuuri says, a little amused. “This is why he won’t let you do quads yet, in case you were wondering.” 

“I have a valid reason and I’m going to make it up this afternoon. And Ciao Ciao won’t let me do quads because he’s mean,” Phichit says with a pout. Then he gets a glint in his eyes. Yuuri nearly groans; he has not known Phichit for that long but he’s already familiar with that expression. Phichit has plotted this conversation and he’s finally found a way to weave it in. “But you could teach me?”

“No way,” Yuuri says. He’s very aware that Celestino isn’t letting Phichit put the quad toe loop on his jump roster this year since it’s not anywhere near learned. For every time he’s nailed it there’s been at least three times he’s faceplanted into the ice. Yuuri sympathizes but ultimately agrees; it’s still too risky of a move for Phichit and he has his whole career ahead of him. His skills and scores are solid for a debuting senior. 

“No, I’m asking you.”

“Jumps are not my strong suit,” Yuuri says with a laugh. He steps off the treadmil and stretches his back out for a moment. This morning his knee had been bothering him but it had faded away by the time he’d finished stretching. Now it’s his back that aches and it’s probably too much to hope that this pain will vanish on its own too. If only he were at home because he’s certain the onsen would fix it right up.

“Yeah and that’s why you’re perfect to teach it to me. You know how to fuck it up.” 

“Wow, how inspiring,” Yuuri says dryly but he understands Phichit’s point. And most of all he understands how much Phichit wants this. “Okay, how about I help you with your jumps and you help me with mine?” 

“How am I supposed to help you?” Phichit asks. Yuuri winces because he hates that tone. He’s not so great that he’s above needing help. 

“My salchow,” he says and Phichit makes a noise of realization. 

“Yeah, okay, I can spot you. But how about I help you instead with your social media? You have like no presence online. It’s almost criminal.” 

“Criminal?” Yuuri asks as he wipes the sweat off his brow and neck.

“Yeah, the world wants to know what Yuuri Katsuki is like, and you’re depriving them of that knowledge!” 

“Pretty sure people just want to see me skate,” Yuuri says. Celestino encourages (read: forces) him to take part in a few interviews every year but Yuuri can’t honestly say what he finds interesting about them. He’s boring; all he does is train and skate. 

“I mean, yeah, people totally want to see you skate, but they want to know you,” Phichit says. “Do you know how many hits I get any time I post a picture of you? I think like half of my followers are here just to get info on you.” 

“Seems kind of an asshole move,” Yuuri says without any malice. He really just doesn’t understand.

“They wouldn’t have to if you posted more!” 

“I’d rather have that help with my jumps,” Yuuri says. 

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll let you have two for the price of one,” Phichit says then grins. “My cousin says I sound like an American when I say stuff like that.” 

He just sounds like Phichit to Yuuri. The alarm on Phichit’s phone goes off and he grabs his stuff. There’s a determined look in his eyes and Yuuri has a mental image of Phichit physically chasing his professor down to get answers. 

“Okay, I’m going to head out. Wish me luck!” Phichit says as he goes off. 

Yuuri hopes that professor is there. He turns his playlist on and starts his jog. The university facilities are nice but he’s ready to get off the campus.

**St. Petersburg, Russia**  
**April 2016**

Yuri screams and throws his phone, the screen cracking with an satisfying sound that still doesn’t manage to soothe even an iota of his fury. It bounces on the concrete floor and makes it through the mouth of the rink, sliding onto the ice. Yuri grits his teeth and chases after it, half hoping that someone will slice it into pieces, as if that would be enough to purge the image he saw on Victor’s instagram. 

He should have known that bastard was up to something when he disappeared and his social media went dark. Victor being silent could never lead to something good. 

But he had never expected to see Katsuki’s face on Victor’s feed. It’s a small consolation that Katsuki looks exasperated in half the photos. In the other half he’s usually turned away from the camera but with a smile and as much as Yuri likes those photos, the fact is that it’s one Victor Nikiforov taking those photos. 

“Why the fuck is Victor in Japan?” Yuri demands of Mila and Georgi after retrieving his phone. It still works, thankfully, but he’s going to have to replace the screen. He hasn’t had to do that in years.

“Literally no clue,” Mila says. She eyes his broken phone with trepidation but Yuri doesn’t want to hear about it.

“Victor’s done what now?” Georgi says.

They both seem genuinely confused which gets them off the hook for being grilled for answers since they clearly know nothing. Mila has a good poker face but she immediately hops online and the look she shoots him is too gleefully surprised. 

Yuri leaves them as they text and comment on Victor’s photos with enthusiasm. They’re both traitors and he hates them. 

Yakov is watching him, with that expectant air, and Yuri snaps his blade guards on before he stomps over to him. 

“Yuuri Katsuki called me,” Yakov says. That wasn’t what Yuri was expecting to hear.

“What did he say?” Yuri demands. He has to know Katsuki’s reaction because that idiot hasn’t said anything to him. Actually, this explains Katsuki’s uncharacteristic silence as well; he’s had his hands full dealing with that bastard Victor. 

“Victor is trying to get him to be his coach,” Yakov says then snorts. “That brat.”

“And?” 

“Katsuki doesn’t want him,” Yakov says and Yuri feels himself visibly relax. He hates that he can’t hide it but at the same time, he can’t find himself to care. Of course Katsuki wouldn’t want to coach just after retiring. Katsuki has his whole summer planned out with ice shows. He’s going to choreograph for that other Japanese skater that has a hard on for him. 

These things are public knowledge but Yuri also knows that he’s looking into schools and thinking about going back for a second degree. Katsuki is also thinking about going to visit Christophe Giacometti because for some inexplicable reason he considers that revolting person a friend. And Phichit Chulanont is apparently moving back to Bangkok and has invited Katsuki there for the summer. Yuri makes fun of Katsuki because every sentence is accompanied by a ‘maybe’ or an ‘I don’t know’. 

But Katsuki definitely doesn’t have time to coach a debuting senior. 

“So he isn’t a total idiot,” Yuri says out loud. 

“But Victor is. He’s refusing to leave Japan until Katsuki gives in,” Yakov says. He sighs and looks at his phone. “That fool is stubborn enough to stay there the whole summer. He’s going to fuck up his whole career.” 

“Let him,” Yuri says, already bored. 

“I should,” Yakov says. “I should.”

Yuri is about to turn away but Yakov’s indecision is written plainly on his face. 

“I’ll go get him for you,” Yuri says. 

Yuri’s a freaking genius. 

“Don’t,” Yakov says because he’s determined to make life difficult for Yuri and himself. “He needs to learn. The world does not revolve around Victor Nikiforov. You have your own programs to practice.” 

“Yeah but you’re worried,” Yuri says. He points at Yakov, hip cocked against the boards. “You’re going to be distracted while coaching me. This is going to be my year, Yakov. I can’t have you worrying about Victor.” 

Yakov gives him a look, half searching but mostly irritated. 

“Yuri. Don’t bother. Victor can do as he pleases. There are consequences for such stupidity,” Yakov says and Yuri thinks it would be a very good sounding stern lecture from his coach if Yakov wasn’t already back to staring down at his phone. 

“The offer still stands,” Yuri says because he legitimately wants to skate right now. Yakov will come around when Victor doesn’t come back. Because Victor isn’t going to return of his own free will. Yuri knows that for a fact. 

Yakov hasn’t been a coach for twenty plus years for nothing though and he’s relatively on top of things as Yuri runs through his new exhibition program that he’ll be touring this summer. _Sixth Gear_ isn’t competition worthy according to Yakov but Yuri agreed to turn it into a exhibition program after Yakov promised he could choose his own free skate song. 

His short program is giving him trouble though because nothing feels right. He needs to reclaim his spot since Katsuki usurped it. Yakov has mentioned a few choreographers and Lilia’s name has come up. And that’s a whole another bucket of worms. He hasn’t worked with her since after his last growth spurt, when prima ballerina Yuri had officially left the building. They hadn’t ended on bad terms so much as Lilia had made it very clear she had little interest in working with figure skaters who didn’t dance properly. 

Yuri wasn’t going to offend her with lies because if he didn’t have to break his bones with ballet, he was going to do it with figure skating, thank you very much, and he had no intention of using ballet for his cross training.

So Yuri skates and practices what’s solidly decided. He does like his exhibition piece and time passes quickly; Yakov likes what he sees so that means he only yells at him a half dozen times. But Yuri fucks up his triple axel by two footing it and it doesn’t get a scream, so he knows that Yakov isn’t paying attention like he usually does.

The rest of the afternoon passes by in relative calm, which Yuri insists is due to Victor’s absence though he only says this out of Yakov’s earshot. Georgi gets offended because he’s friends with Victor while Mila just laughs it off and Yuri thinks again that they’re both traitors. He’s known them longer than Victor has. 

The anger is muted underneath a layer of exhaustion and when his cats mob him upon his return home, he’s almost entirely forgotten why his morning sucked ass. He gets them all dinner then flops down onto the couch, a spoonful of chicken and rice in his mouth when he opens Instagram and spits it all out. 

Victor’s got a new video up and it’s got Katsuki’s face in the thumbnail. Yuri presses play. His blood boils because Katsuki is smiling as Victor’s dog leaps all over him. Yuri replays the clip so he can hear Katsuki laugh and coo at Makkachin. It’s disgusting and Yuri looks up at Belka and Zhenya. 

“Katsuki would like you guys better,” he declares to their extreme disinterest. Belka is chowing down on the food Yuri sprayed everyone, scooting over the floor like a roomba before jumping up on Yuri, happily sitting on his shoulder after her illicit meal.

It’s absolutely repulsive and abhorrent; Yuri aggressively exits the app and switches to twitter. He’s got Victor blocked there and he’s going to block his instagram too, if he’s going to be a fucking dumbass about this whole Katsuki coaching him thing. 

Before he can do that Yuri finds that there’s an actual post on Katsuki’s twitter. It’s nothing impressive; though he’s never actually been to Katsuki’s home town he recognizes the rink where Katsuki trains during the off season. But the caption is a simple _”practice with v-nikiforov”_.

“Oh fuck you,” Yuri whispers. 

Belka jumps off, probably because she can sense that there’s nothing in her power to soothe Yuri at this point. 

“I’m not doing it for Victor,” Yuri hisses to himself as he grabs his laptop and books his plane ticket. He refuses to let himself think about who he is doing it for. The official story is that he’s doing it for Yakov. He’s going to repeat it until it’s true and fuck anyone who doubts him otherwise. 

He texts Mila and she replies that she’s on her way over because she can tell when shit is about to go down. Yuri isn’t sure if it’s a sixth sense from being around him for so long; she’s been training with Yakov since she was a novice and thus she’s been around Yuri for almost ten years now. She’s the annoying little sister he never wanted but is stuck with. 

“Yakov is going to be pissed,” Mila says when she hears about his grand plan as she scoops Zhenya up. Zhenya rests his head on Mila’s shoulder with a content look on his face. She spoils him too much and Yuri makes a mental note to replenish his cat treats when he gets back. 

“Yeah but the old man is worried about that idiot,” Yuri says as he debates exactly which tiger tank top he’s taking. The one with red eyes is nice and shows off his arms but the white one is almost skin tight and makes his abs look fantastic. “This’ll be faster.” 

“I’m not covering for you. If Yakov asks him I’ll tell him exactly where you are,” Mila says. 

“I’m asking you to watch my cats, not to take a bullet for me,” Yuri says with an eyeroll. He throws the white tiger shirt into his backpack. “Besides, I can handle Yakov. I’m still alive, right?” 

“As long as we’re clear,” Mila says cheerfully. “By the way, can I have friends over here?”

“Fuck no,” he says. But he remembers being eighteen and he’s not stupid. “Clean up after yourselves and don’t break my shit.” 

“I love you, Yura,” she coos and Yuri flips her off. 

He waits until he’s in the cab to text her a thanks and to not overfeed his fat cat, then he calls his grandpa. The call goes to voicemail and Yuri calls again. Sometimes it takes Nikolai a while to hear it, let alone to get to the phone, especially because he doesn’t carry it on his person like everyone else. The house isn’t set up for a wheelchair but Nikolai is stubborn.

“Hey, Gramps?” Yuri says when he finally answers.

“Are you coming over right now? I was expecting you on Saturday but you’re always welcome.” Yuri listens as the television volume is turned down. He hasn’t been able to convince Nikolai to switch to video chatting and facetiming so he has to close his eyes to envision him.

“No, I’m going to be out of the country for a while, so if you need anything, you’ll have to ask the old woman.” Yuri says. He does not explain for the millionth time that Katya isn’t old at thirty six and that she’s a professional licensed nurse. Nikolai hems and haws for a moment before realizing that Yuri isn’t going to start that discussion.

“Is it for skating? I thought your summers were quieter.” 

“Yeah, a rinkmake is being stupid so I’m going to be help him out for a bit,” Yuri says because he has no clue how to actually explain how ridiculous his life is. 

“You mean like a friend?” Nikolai says, hopeful. 

“Uh.” Yuri swallows because while Victor is not his friend, fuck him, Katsuki could probably be considered something of a friend. “Sort of? A rinkmate is bothering a...a friend. It’s private. I can’t tell you details.” 

“That’s fine. Go help out your friend. Call me when you’re back home,” Nikolai says. 

“Got it,” Yuri says and waits for him to hang up. 

Yuri texts Yakov to tell him he’s going to be away for a few days and figures that when he walks back with Victor in tow that’ll be explanation enough. It’s a long flight to Fukuoka and while Yuri sleeps for part of it, that still leaves too many hours in a cramped plane seat and a depressing lack of solid internet. On the plus side he’s gone through his whole playlist for his long program and he’s narrowed it down to five songs. Yakov should be happy about that part.

Yuri curses Katsuki’s hometown because apparently he has to take the subway there too and godfucking dammit isn’t a fourteen hour flight enough to suffer for this man? And Yuri is being generous by not counting the four hour layover in that figure. 

Bleary eyed and exhausted as he is, he still finds the energy to scoff at the posters of Katsuki all over town. At least he knows he’s in the right place. But by the time he gets to the hot springs inn, he’s barely upright, and he’s ready to take pass out.

“Yuuri Katsuki?” he asks the lady at the front and she looks at him for a moment, as if judging whether he’s worthy or not. Yuri scowls at her because he’s been travelling for a whole day and like hell he’s going to be turned away if Katsuki is actually here. “Tell him Yuri Plisetsky is here. He knows me.” 

The woman holds his gaze for a moment more then nods and gestures at him to wait. It isn’t until after she leaves that Yuri realizes she probably doesn’t speak English. A different lady who can speak it comes around to seat him with a drink and Yuri takes it, inhaling the warm green tea. He’s wondering what he’s going to say to Katsuki when he sees the man himself approaching. Yuri grips his empty cup.

Katsuki is on the phone and he freezes in place as he catches sight of Yuri. 

“Mr. Feltsman, I think he’s more than just insistent,” Katsuki says. 

Aw, fuck, that was quick. Yuri holds his hand out for the phone and Katsuki hands it to him without a word. Yakov starts yelling right away and Yuri holds the phone away from his ear; it sounds like the usual ranting and Yuri is mildly sympathetic because Yakov now has two skaters in a foreign country. But Yuri is here to fix everything. 

“I’m doing you a favor, old man,” Yuri shouts back in English so Katsuki can understand. “I’m dragging that idiot Victor back to Russia.” 

Yuri hangs up and hands the phone back to Katsuki. He stands up and prays that no one else heard how his back popped.

“Where the hell is he?” Yuri asks. 

“Hello to you too,” Katsuki says. 

“Whatever. Take me to where Victor is,” Yuri says. He’s exhausted but he’s going to tunnel vision his rage and give Victor a piece of his mind. 

Katsuki looks like he’s about to say something but he turns and gestures for Yuri to follow. There’s a flat screen tv playing a football game which some of the other guests are rather into. Victor is seated at a table, headphones plugged into his phone as he peacefully watches an old program of Katsuki’s, pen in hand as he jots down notes or more probably love declarations. 

“Oy, jackass,” Yuri barks. 

Victor’s head pops up and he blinks for a few moments as he leaves his reverie. His eyes focus on Yuri and he jumps, his earbuds dragging his phone away from the table. Victor grabs it before it can fall and he shoves it all into his pocket as he stands up.

“Yura,” Victor exclaims. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I wouldn't have to go all the way to Japan if it wasn’t for you!” Yuri says through gritted teeth. Katsuki blinks at him but Yuri is too busy focusing all of his anger on Victor to respond.

“No, but seriously, why are you here?” Victor asks and he seems genuinely confused. 

“Because you-” Yuri says, getting right into Victor’s face, “-are a fucking dick.” 

“Well, that explains everything,” Victor says and Yuri is close enough to strangle him. His hands twitch with the desire. Katsuki is his, dammit. Victor doesn’t get to absorb him like this. 

“You don’t get to just up and leave Russia. You left Yakov, for fuck’s sake.” 

“I thanked him for all his help,” Victor says. Again, there’s no fear in his eyes, and Yuri wishes he could find a way to break that arrogance. “I didn’t renew our contract.” 

“That’s not the point,” Yuri says. “You’re being a pain in everyone’s ass. Katsuki is retired; he doesn’t want to deal with uppity shit heads like you.” 

“He’s not _dealing_ with me. I’ve asked him to be my coach. This is between us. You aren’t a part of it,” Victor says and that would honestly be a fine sentence except that Yuri is totally a part of this because it’s about Katsuki. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, you brat,” Yuri says. He wants to scream and spit but he’s too tired and even his rage can only keep him upright for so long. Yuri points at Victor. “I’m not done with you.” 

“Okay,” Victor says, unimpressed. He sits back down and goes right back to notes. Yuri nearly vibrates at how nonchalant Victor is about everything but before he can say something Katsuki touches his wrist. The physical contact only lasts for a moment because Katsuki pulls away like he’s been burned and when Yuri turns to look at him, Katsuki holding his own wrist with his free hand.

“Here, let’s find you a room,” Katsuki murmurs. 

Yuri lets himself be lulled by his soft voice. It sounds so much nicer here in Katsuki’s home, without the stress and adrenaline of a nearby competition. Katsuki takes him back up front and he converses with the ladies. Even with the language barrier Yuri can tell there’s a problem but he waits for Katsuki to turn back to him. Katsuki sighs at the guest book and taps at it with the pen.

“We’re all booked,” Katsuki says in a quiet voice. He focuses on Yuri which always sends a thrill through him but there’s something else in that look. Yuri likes it but he doesn’t know exactly what it is. “Our sister inn _Hinode_ will have room and it’s only a few minutes away.” 

“I’m not staying somewhere else if Victor is staying here,” Yuri says. He doesn’t mention that he literally might not make it. Honestly, he could probably fall asleep right here on his feet. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem surprised. He stares at the book then gently closes it. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to come like this,” Katsuki says after a moment. 

“Surprise,” Yuri says. “And if it makes you feel better I wasn’t planning on this either. But some fucking asshole had to leave the country.”

Katsuki is quiet for a moment then he looks at him, his gaze far too piercing. 

“And what were you planning?” 

Yuri takes too long to say “Fuck you.” 

Katsuki starts to grin but then he catches sight of the time and his face sinks.

“Oh no,” Katsuki says and he presses a hand to his eyes. “I was supposed to be at the rink this afternoon. I missed my rink time.” 

“What?” Yuri asks. 

“I have to text Yuuko-chan,” he mutters. “I was on the phone with Mr. Feltsman and I meant to go right after.”

“See, this dumbass is keeping you from skating,” Yuri says, and if he gets any angrier smoke is going to come out of his ears. Or he’s going to punch Victor out cold and drag his skinny ass back to Russia. Yeah, that second one sounds a lot more plausible. 

“He’s not,” Katsuki says, tapping away at his phone as he replies. “I mean, yeah, he’s distracting and he keeps insisting I coach him. But for the most part, he lets me practice, though it would go better if he wasn’t right there watching me the whole time.” 

Yuri is definitely not jealous that Victor gets to watch Katsuki practice. Because Victor is not only an idiot but now he’s a creep too and Yuri is neither of those things. He takes a deep breath. 

“I’m not leaving without this dumbass,” Yuri declares. 

“I’ll get a room set up for you,” Katsuki says with a sigh. “Just, wait here, and don’t do anything.”

Yuri knows he means ‘don’t kill Victor’ but he’s not about to promise anything. Fifteen minutes later he’s got a room at Yutopia Akatsuki. Apparently he’s going to be staying in Katsuki’s sister’s old room. He wrinkles his nose at the idol posters but ignores them in favor of throwing his suitcase on the floor. By all rights Katsuki should have sent him packing to the other inn so he should be more thankful. 

He barely manages to pull off his shirt before he passes out on the bed. Someone comes by a few hours later for dinner and Yuri rouses himself, grumbling at how disgusting he feels. He knows better than to go to sleep without bathing after spending the day traveling. 

It takes him a few minutes of arguing with himself and staring at the guide to using the onsen before he decides to hell with it. He wants to know what makes the hot springs so special that Yuuri Katsuki will swallow his pride and shill them to the international community. Yuri rinses off at what’s probably a record speed and clings to his towel which could definitely be bigger. 

Katsuki is in the hot springs already and Yuri is torn between running towards him and going back. But he’s already rinsed off and it’s not like this is the first time they’ve seen each other naked. Katsuki notices his arrival but closes his eyes again, which Yuri appreciates even if he’s not going to thank Katsuki out loud for it. 

Yuri all but dives in and the water burns. Then he acclimates and he groans, loud and entirely inappropriately. Katsuki’s eyes are still closed but he fails to hide his chuckle.

“I am never leaving this water,” Yuri declares and even Katsuki’s muffled laugh does nothing to distract him from the nirvana of warmth and comfort. He can feel the tension leave his body, as if it was bleeding out and absorbed by the hot springs; it certainly explains why Katsuki is such a powerhouse if this is how he recovers. It’s practically a restore point. 

“You’ll get wrinkles,” Katsuki says in a lazy tone. His eyes are open now that it’s safe. 

“Worth it,” Yuri murmurs. He pauses to consider. “No, definitely worth it.”

Yuri lets his legs stretch out in the warm water, his mind relatively and comfortably blank. It’s always been easy to fall into silence with Katsuki but it’s a strange companionable thing, which Yuri hasn’t often found. His grandpa can manage something similar but usually Nikolai is busy engrossed in the television or reading the newspaper while Yuri listens to music or plays a video game.

“Did you still get to practice today?” Yuri asks. 

“Not really,” Katsuki says, frowning a little. It’s more of a pout. Yuri physically aches for his phone because he could think of so many captions for an image like that. “I got to skate on my own for like a half hour but public hours started right after and I didn’t want to cause any issues.” 

“You mean you didn’t want to deal with any more fans,” Yuri says. 

“It’s not like that,” Katsuki mumbles and Yuri would normally snort at that but he’s really relaxed. Instead he rolls his eyes at Katsuki and doesn’t argue. 

“How’s skating with Victor?” Yuri asks, a little snide and amused despite it all. 

“He’s good,” Katsuki says. He shakes his head. “I don’t get why he wants me to be his coach. He already has a coach and Yakov Feltsman is one of the best. Or he should have gone to Celestino.”

“That’s because Victor is stupid,” Yuri says. “He doesn’t think. Russia apologizes for their idiot skater. Well, we would, but we’re okay with him getting the fuck out.” 

Katsuki snorts a little and splashes his face with water. He runs his fingers through his hair and lets it stay messy.

“Between you, Victor, and Georgi, I wouldn’t be surprised if Russia takes the whole podium at a competition soon,” Katsuki says. 

It would be a beautiful image if Yuri cared more about that sort of thing. He wants to stand at the top; the other two positions can go to whoever. It’s self centered but he wants the gold. 

If Katsuki were competing this year none of this would be happening. The gold medal would be harder to get to but it would be worth more if he could take it from Katsuki’s neck. Yuri’s mind churns; the idea doesn’t give him as much satisfaction as it used to, and while it’s partly because he knows that now it’s an unfillable dream, there’s something else marring the image. 

Yuri wouldn’t be here like this for starters. 

He leans over to kiss Katsuki, the water rippling around him as he moves. It gives him away though he hadn’t really been planning on surprising Katsuki. If anyone is surprised it’s Yuri because he hadn’t realized how much he wants to hold onto Katsuki until now that he can reach out and touch him.

Katsuki’s eyes widen and he holds up his hands between Yuri’s lips and his face so that he can’t kiss him. The water splashes up and though it’s warm Yuri’s skin runs with a chill. 

“We can’t do that here,” Katsuki hisses. For a second Yuri thinks the worst then Katsuki continues. “It’s against onsen rules. Haruna-chan told you this when you checked in and it’s written all over the place.” 

“In Japanese,” Yuri says, too dumbstruck to be furious. He can’t even muster up the energy to clench his hands or glare.

“There are signs in English too,” Katsuki says.

Yuri wants to call him a liar but Katsuki is pointing right to the sign. 

“Shut up,” he settles for. 

Katsuki sighs at him and pulls himself out. Yuri openly stares at his ass but Katsuki doesn’t seem to notice or care. He turns around, tying his towel around his waist as if it’s barely a thought, and Yuri doesn’t have time to shut his mouth. Katsuki might have been smirking but it’s gone before Yuri can focus.

“You know those signs that say guests aren’t allowed past this point? That’s because the back rooms are where we live. My room is at the end of the hallway,” Katsuki says softly. Yuri doesn’t nod because honestly, he didn’t notice those signs either. “You don’t have to knock.” 

Yuri swallows and prays that Katsuki can’t see how nervous he is. His voice is too dry but he thinks he manages to say a reasonably nonchalant “okay”. 

He watches Katsuki go and then dunks himself all the way in the water. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to do that or not but he needs it. The onsen isn’t as relaxing now that Yuri is all keyed up but he tries to stay as long as possible so that he doesn't seem overeager. (He knows he’s definitely not supposed to jack off here even if it would help.)

It’s ridiculous how uncertain he feels as he quietly makes his way to Katsuki’s room. He gets the feeling that someone will pop up and kick him out, or worse, that Victor will show up and Katsuki will stop Yuri again. Yuri knocks once before pushing the door open. Katsuki is on his bed, reading a book, which he sets down on his nightstand the moment he sees Yuri. He doesn’t have his glasses on but his hair is still damp and messy.

“Stay there,” Yuri says, because he likes how comfortable Katsuki looks. Katsuki raises an eyebrow at him but Yuri crosses the room and climbs on top of him before he can say anything. 

Katsuki’s hands are in his hair, pulling him as close as possible for a kiss. They’re both still warm from the bath and Katsuki’s hands are so sure against him. There’s no hesitation here. Yuri sinks into the feeling.

Fuck Victor but bless the idiot.

**Russian Nationals**  
**December 2009**

“Why is Yakov being such an ass?” Yuri absently asks as Yakov insists for the final time that Georgi and Yuri stick together while he takes a phone call.

They’re in Moscow for Nationals and it’s not Yuri’s first time here. He won last year, for fuck’s sake. He’s not a child anymore. And he lived in Moscow before he moved to St. Petersburg to train. His grandpa is here in the crowds today. 

“He’s worried for you,” Georgi says. He plays with the feathered edge of his outfit. Yuri has already told Georgi that he looks less swan and more goose. Much to Yuri’s displeasure it has never seemingly bothered Georgi. He always insists that he’s a beautiful swan and he won’t be held back by naysayers and critics like Yuri. 

“And not about you?” Yuri asks with a little scoff. The room is filled with the other men as they wait for the current group to finish their last practice before they go out to skate their programs and those who have already finished their on ice practice. These are his direct competitors. Yuri leans against the wall and makes sure they can see that he has no fear. He’s here to defend his title.

“Oh, that too, but you’re fresher. New meat, I think is the phrase,” Georgi says nonchalantly for someone who likes the romantic things in life. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yuri asks. 

Georgi nods his head towards the other skaters. Most of the men are with their coaches or talking to one another in civil, friendly tones. But there is a large enough group sequestered off and even Yuri can tell they are less than enthused with a certain pair.

“Yakov’s skaters are the best,” Georgi says with a thoughtful expression as he watches the other skaters point and whisper about them. His arms are crossed as if to protect himself from the ill vibes the other skaters are emantinating and the fingers of his right hand are drumming against his forearm. “I won the year before and you won last year. We take up the best podium spots and so they hate us.” 

“And?” Yuri asks. 

“It doesn’t bother you?” Georgi blinks at him. The soft patter of his tapping stops. 

“Why would it? I’m the best so I win. They should practice more. Or maybe retire and spend their life actually being good at something. No one will miss them,” Yuri says. “I don’t need to be friends with losers. They’ll drag me down.” 

Georgi watches the skaters. He’s silent and Yuri takes it as a chance to relax rather than recognize it for the warning that it is. It’s still insulting because Yuri doesn’t need a babysitter and he definitely doesn’t need the likes of Georgi to protect him. Yuri can watch over himself.

“I suppose the likes of me would drag you down too?” Georgi asks. 

“We have the same coach. I’m stuck with you,” Yuri says and he doesn’t even think to hide the displeasure in his voice. Georgi isn’t good enough to keep up with him but he’s a thousand paces ahead of the other skaters that are at this competition. He has no fear of being surpassed by him, only that Georgi’s antics will ruin his concentration and interrupt his training. 

“Asshole,” Georgi spits out at him and it’s Yuri’s turn to be confused at Georgi’s sudden anger.

He doesn’t get to ask Georgi about it though because he pushes himself off the wall and walks away. Yuri shrugs and pulls out his phone. Yakov can yell at them later for splitting up and now Yuri can honestly say it wasn’t him for a change. It’s better this way because now Yuri can focus; he’s not concerned about this run of skaters but he’s still going to make sure to win.

He scoffs, uncaring if they hear him. Maybe if they were better they could be a proper challenge for him but as of right now, Yuuri Katsuki is the only one who is worth his time. 

**Hasetsu, Japan**  
**May 2016**

Yuri-kun passes out after about a minute of kissing and Yuuri thinks he should be more offended. He’s kind of mad at himself for not realizing that Yuri-kun would be fighting jet lag though. It’s not like Yuri-kun could have said anything. That would have made too much sense.

Yuuri watches as Yuri-kun sleeps and takes advantage of the fact that they’re pressed together to pull Yuri-kun closer to him. He doesn’t want to fall asleep; Yuri-kun’s arrival might prove to be a dream though Yuuri is pretty sure it’s not. Yuri-kun has a way of making the world seem real in a way that usually only skating provides. 

Yuuri forces himself to breathe in and out, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, because as thrilled as he is, he still has work to do tomorrow. He has ice shows to prepare for and like a true idiot, he has new routines to learn for it. Because of course he couldn’t have done what everyone else does and just skated his programs from the year. But _Garden in Sunlight_ and _Andante Festive_ were about his years as a competitive skater and he can’t skate them again like that. They wouldn’t ring true if he skated them after retiring. 

It takes him a long time to fall asleep and then he’s being woken up far too early. Yuuri doesn’t get to look at his clock to confirm that though because Yuri-kun’s head is in the way. And he’s on top of Yuuri, comfortably heavy and solid.

Yuuri groans as Yuri-kun purposefully grinds up against him. It’s not the sort of awakening he expected but he really shouldn’t have been surprised considering it’s Yuri-kun.

“Oy, wake up,” Yuri-kun says, and Yuuri can practically see him purring with that self-satisfied smile. Yuuri groans again but snaps his hips up, making Yuri-kun’s eyes go wide in delighted surprise. 

“You’re the one who fell asleep on me,” Yuuri says. He sits up and he starts undoing Yuri-kun’s robe, stumbling over the ridiculous knot he managed. His fingers and brain are still bleary with sleep but he’s waking up right quick.

“I didn’t- oh!” Yuri-kun stops to moan as Yuuri finally gets the knot undone and takes his cock in hand. Yuri-kun is already hard and slick and Yuuri wonders at what he’d been up to before he decided to wake him up. He rubs his thumb over the head of Yuri-kun’s penis, getting his fingers sticky before drawing his hand back down to encircle his cock. 

Yuuri could probably sit back and let Yuri-kun fuck himself into his hand. The idea is nice and he reaches around to grab Yuri-kun’s ass, digging his fingers into the meat of his cheeks and pulling him closer. The whimper Yuri-kun gives when Yuuri presses too hard makes him leak a little and he bites back his groan. 

“Hey, Katsuki, you’re wearing too much,” Yuri-kun pants and Yuuri is tempted to ignore him so he can continue stroking Yuri-kun. He likes being able to see Yuri-kun’s face when he comes. The indecision must be clear on his face because Yuri-kun backs away from him with a whine. “Get naked.” 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Yuuri says with a grin. He makes to pull away then pushes forward so he can kiss Yuri-kun. The surprise doesn’t keep Yuri-kun from responding and it only takes him a moment before he’s licking into Yuuri’s mouth, rough and hungry. 

“Your breath smells like fucking ass,” Yuri-kun says and Yuuri laughs as he pulls his shirt off. 

“And you know that how?” Yuuri asks. 

“Hurry up,” Yuri-kun demands, hands already at Yuuri’s waist, pushing his shorts and briefs down. Yuuri makes to protest that he’s not going that slow but decides it’s easier to lift his hips so he can get his clothes off all the way. 

Yuri-kun tries to get his hands on Yuuri’s cock but he bats them away. He wants to focus on Yuri-kun. It doesn’t take long before Yuri-kun is gasping and moaning again; Yuuri should tell him to keep his voice down but he wants to hear everything Yuri-kun has to offer. He wants to drink it all in, sight and sound, to burn it into his mind because even now he doesn’t have the promise of more. 

Yuuri switches hands and he’s not as skilled with his other but he’s starting to get a cramp. But Yuri-kun is so close he doesn’t notice other than to whine for that one second where he was untouched. 

Yuri-kun groans out his orgasm, his hips thrusting and stuttering against Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri can feel everything with Yuri-kun pressed up so close to him and he kisses his neck, licking up sweat as Yuri-kun relaxes. Yuuri is still hard but he nearly forgets about it as he’s entranced by Yuri-kun’s pleasure. 

“Do you want my hand or my mouth?” Yuri-kun asks once he’s stopped shivering, and Yuuri’s mind freezes because it’s too early in the morning for this kind of important decision making. 

Yuri-kun seems to realize this because he presses a quick kiss to Yuuri’s lips then slides down between his legs. He doesn’t start right at his cock though; instead he takes his time, laving the inside of his thighs with open mouthed kisses and long licks of his tongue. It’s warm and good, but it’s far too teasing when all Yuuri wants is to fuck Yuri-kun’s mouth. 

“Yuri,” he moans, thrusting up as much as he can. 

“What?” Yuri-kun asks, glancing up at him, diabolical and mischievous. He bites down on Yuuri’s thigh.

Yuuri covers his mouth with one hand and with his other grabs Yuri-kun’s hair. It suffices because Yuri-kun starts mouthing at his balls, and Yuuri tries to keep from shouting when Yuri-kun finally, properly starts on his cock. 

He thrusts up into his mouth and Yuri-kun takes it, trying to sink down further. Yuuri knows that Yuri-kun will protest against anything he doesn’t like and he does it again, harder this time. He yanks on Yuri-kun’s hair when he feels himself about to come but Yuri-kun doesn’t pull off and so Yuuri comes in his mouth. 

Yuuri falls back onto his bed and Yuri-kun follows, flopping down beside him with a grin at him. It’s more than Yuuri’s climax satisfying his body and mind but he doesn’t feel like turning that thought over when he can kiss Yuri-kun and intertwine their fingers.

“Thank you,” he murmurs and Yuri-kun makes a soft questioning noise. “For coming here.” 

Yuri-kun is quiet for a moment. He shuffles around until he’s meeting Yuuri’s look. “I was going to come. It wasn’t just because of Victor. I would have come to see you.” 

“I know,” Yuuri says even though he hadn’t known. 

Yuuri could stay like this for the whole morning, limbs entangled with Yuri-kun’s, lazily telling about how amazing he is and how Yuuri is sure he doesn’t deserve this, but Yuri-kun gets up and stretches before the notion can even settle into Yuuri’s mind. 

“I need food. I want to try that katsu-thing you’re always yammering on about.” 

“Katsudon,” Yuuri says and he doesn’t point out that Yuri-kun definitely knows what the name is. He’ll let him have that. 

Yuri-kun looks like he’s had sex, his hair messy and tangled from where Yuuri grabbed it, and an easy grin on his face. His yukata is still tied wrong and sloppy. Yuuri had been planning on telling his family something after he and Yuri-kun discussed it. Although they can just walk out like this and everyone will understand what’s happening. 

But really, his family isn’t the problem here.

It’s that Victor Nikiforov is anything but private and subtle. Yuuri forces away the potential clickbait titles their relationship would fall under and sits up. 

“What...what are you going to say, if anyone asks you anything?” Yuuri says, and his words aren’t coming out the way he wants or needs them to. He’s not ashamed. But he’s home, away from the rest of the world, and he doesn’t want to think about online reactions or gossip blogs. Any relationship with Yuri Plisetsky is going to be a hot topic; he’s followed Yuri-kun’s instagram and twitter for far too long not to know this. 

Yuri-kun doesn’t seem to notice. He finishes wiping his cock off with Yuuri’s bedsheets, which is gross and now he’s going to have to wash them, as Yuri-kun pulls his trousers on. He’s silent as digs around for his slippers. 

“I dunno. That I fucked you so good you cried, probably.” Yuri-kun looks up at him, steel in his eyes but curious at what Yuuri’s reaction will be. “Is that a problem?” 

“Other than it’s a lie? Not really,” Yuuri says. He knows Yuri-kun’s other slipper is under his bed but he doesn’t say anything about it yet. “Just wanted to be on the same page. Are you okay with me being your...with us-” 

“Yeah, I am,” Yuri-kun says. He stands up, holding his single slipper and does not meet Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri knows the clipped air and false bravado that only comes when Yuri-kun is trying to hide his weakness; he can’t believe he’s hearing it now. “As long as you are.” 

Yuuri nods and reaches under his bed to grab Yuri-kun’s other slipper.

“Thanks,” Yuri-kun says and he presses a quick kiss on the top of Yuuri’s head. 

Yuuri barely has time to look up before Yuri-kun is leaving, quick as he can without it being called a retreat, though it’s not fast enough to prevent Yuuri from seeing how he is blushing. 

He’s so grateful that Mari-neechan is at _Hinode_. She would have been able to tell he had sex in a heartbeat. It’s the burden of being an older sister, she always says. And she definitely would have said something about it just to embarrass him. 

Yuuri sends Chris an update that Yuri-kun is now here as well before pulling himself from bed to get ready for the day. This is turning into a whole saga and he’s sure Chris is getting a good laugh. At least someone ought to get some enjoyment out of this whole debacle. 

He finds Makkachin ready by the front door but Victor nowhere in sight. They had missed their rink time yesterday and Yuuri refuses to miss today’s session. Makkachin follows him as he searches around until he finds Victor eating breakfast in the kitchen with Hiroko. Victor isn’t even dressed for the day, still barefoot and in a tank top and shorts.

“Good morning, Yuuri!” Victor waves at him. Hiroko tutts and Victor looks down to see he’s overfilled his cup of jasmine tea. “Oops.” 

“You’re so distractible, Victor-chan,” Hiroko says with an amused smile. 

Yuuri does not mentally curse at how much his mother likes Victor. She hasn’t outright said that Yuuri should coach Victor. But she doesn’t need to because Yuuri can tell. She lets Victor into her kitchen, for goodness sake; not even Chris has gotten to that level. Yuuri tries not to think about how disappointed she’s going to be when Victor goes back to Russia. 

“Can I steal Victor for a minute?” Yuuri asks. 

“Let him finish,” Hiroko says. She’s quiet for a moment, and Yuuri recognizes the look on her face. The onsen attracts enough international attention that Hiroko has a firm grasp of her English but it’s mostly centered around explaining the onsen and the surroundings. She gives Victor an apologetic look then turns to Yuuri as she switches to Japanese. “He says he doesn’t like tea. Yuuri, this boy claims that coffee is better. I think he simply has to find a flavor he enjoys.”

“You like coffee,” Yuuri responds in kind and Hiroko gives him a look for excluding Victor from the conversation. He does not sigh but it’s a close thing; he obliges her and switches to English. “Victor, my mom says that she thinks you just have to find a tea you like. I think she’s offended at your heathen coffee ways.” 

Victor is sipping at his tea with an expression that screams for someone to save him. He’s doing a good job at hiding it. But Yuuri knows that look far too well, having been suppressing it for most of his life; though he’s not so much begging for someone to help him as he is desperately trying to find a way to escape whatever situation his ridiculous mind has deemed a threat.

“We need to go and train,” Yuuri says and Hiroko sighs as she takes the mostly full cup from Victor. 

“We’ll find one, Victor-chan,” she says, patting his hand. 

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can ask her to stop?” Yuuri asks once they are out of Hiroko’s earshot but Victor shakes his head.

“I don’t mind. My grandmother sort of used to say the same thing. She was always talking about the corrupt Western influence and how Russia’s youth were morally bankrupt,” Victor says cheerfully as he follows Yuuri out and towards Victor’s room. He has to stop and acknowledge every guest and worker they meet with the loudest greetings but it’s endearing to more than just Yuuri, judging by all the smiles Victor receives.“Besides, I’ve heard tea is good for you.”

Yuuri chuckles at that; he’s heard a few worries over the years about all the time he’s spent in America. His family doesn’t know the full extent of his university experience and Yuuri plans to keep it that way. Celestino is sworn to secrecy about anything involving alcohol. 

“Are we actually going to Ice Castle?” Victor asks with a hopeful look. 

“Oh yeah, we are. But Victor, I talked to Yakov,” Yuuri says, stopping at Victor’s room. That conversation hadn’t happened yesterday due to Yuri-kun’s surprise appearance. Victor gives a nervous laugh and twists his finger into the ends of his hair. “He said that he’s willing to take you back if you, but only if you, um, beg for it like your life depends on it. Those are his words.” 

“But Yuuri, I want you to be my coach-” 

Yuuri holds up his hand. “I’m not done. We’ve agreed that I can choreograph a program for you if you return to Russia to train under Yakov. Either way, I’m not coaching you, Victor.” 

Victor doesn’t say anything for a minute. Yuuri doesn’t know him well enough but he doesn’t like the look that settles on Victor’s face. He goes into his room and sits down on his bed, giving a huge sigh that Yuuri does not believe is sincere at all; it’s purely for the drama. Makkachin hops up to join him.

“I severed my contract with Yakov. Or, technically, I didn’t renew it but it comes down to the same thing.” Victor gives a flawlessly sad smile. He hugs Makkachin and he’s practically the definition of forlorn. “I don’t think he’ll sign me on again, no matter what he told you. So now I have no coach. And without a coach I can’t compete. I guess that’s okay though. I can postpone my senior debut for a year. I’m sure I’ll be able to go back without any issues. I was a promising junior skater but not every junior skater makes it to seniors.” 

Yuuri sighs and takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes. 

“I get why Yakov has no hair,” he mutters. Victor breaks his facade to giggle at that. Yuuri puts his glasses back on. “Let’s get going. I don’t want to miss another day of ice time.” 

Victor leaps up to finish getting ready. A few minutes later they’re on their way out.

Yuri-kun is sitting down at one of the tables, blearily glaring at a menu, and Yuuri would feel guilty that he’s awake so early but Yuri-kun is the one who woke him up. 

“Yura. We’re going to skate. Join us,” Victor exclaims, ignoring Yuri-kun’s murderous look.

Yuuri waits for Victor and Makkachin to head out the door. He’ll catch up in a minute and Victor knows the way by now. 

“Are you coming with us too?” Yuuri asks. 

“Didn’t bring my skates,” Yuri-kun says. He rubs at his eyes and now that Victor is gone, he leans back, more at ease. “And I’m not touching those rental skates. They’ll contaminate my feet.” 

“Contaminate?” Yuuri repeats even as he gets what Yuri-kun means. The difference between their gear and the rental ones for more casual use are worlds apart. 

“I figured it would be a short trip so I didn’t bring them,” Yuri-kun says. He sighs and drops his phone beside him. “Should have known Victor fucking Nikiforov wouldn’t make it that easy.” 

“I’d still like it if you came,” Yuuri murmurs. It’s a bit of a struggle to keep meeting Yuri-kun’s as he speaks but it’s worth it to see him give a minute startle. 

Yuri-kun seems to wrestle with himself for a moment before sighing again. 

“Nah, I’ll stay. The hot springs are actually pretty nice. It’s a hell of a lot better than I thought it would be. And being near the ice without my skates will make my skin breakout.” 

“Your skin will break out?” Yuuri says, a little amused despite himself. 

“Pent up longing,” Yuri-kun explains with a smirk. Yuuri wants to duck his head and look away but he likes the look Yuri-kun has. “Maybe you can help with that, huh?” 

“Maybe,” Yuuri says. “When I get back?” 

“Dunno if I can wait that long,” Yuri-kun says. 

“Too bad,” Yuuri says with a laugh. “Some of us have work to do.” 

“I am working. Trying to, at least. How am I supposed to crush all of your records if my coach is busy worrying about another idiot skater?” Yuri-kun says. 

“Crush them anyway?” Yuuri shrugs at Yuri-kun’s eyeroll but he has to get going. Yuuko’s beaten them to the rink by now for sure. “If you need anything let me or someone else know, okay? We-I want your stay to be comfortable here.” 

“Sure, sure,” Yuri-kun says and Yuuri believes him. Yuri-kun never holds back from complaining. 

Victor is leaning up against the gate, absently alternating between braiding and undoing his hair. Makkachin is pacing at his feet and greets Yuuri by jumping around him and taking off. Victor stands up as soon as he sees Yuuri.

“Aw, Yura didn’t want to come?” Victor asks. 

“I think he’s still recovering from jetlag,” Yuuri says. He gives a little huff. “Not that he’ll admit to it.” 

“The Ice Tiger of Russia never shows weakness,” Victor says in a solemn tone and Yuuri shouldn’t laugh because that only encourages Victor but he can’t help it. Victor grins and they fall silent to save their breath for their jog. 

As expected the doors to Ice Castle are already unlocked.

“Hi Yuuko,” Victor calls out the moment he sees her. 

She nods at them in greeting but she’s busy on the computer. Yuuri isn’t concerned; she’ll drop by to check on them when she gets a chance. He’s also of the opinion that she doesn’t need to be here this early if Yuuri has his own key. But this is a long ongoing fight that Yuuko has clearly won.

Yuuri turns the radio on so they can warm up. Victor doesn’t understand a word of Japanese but he still bobs his head to the catchy tunes. He’ll ask Yuuri to name the song and Yuuri will patiently walk him through the pronunciation each time. It’s not hard to skate when Victor has this much enthusiasm bubbling around him in everything that he does. 

Yuuri is about to switch the music to his exhibition pieces when Victor tries to say something. He doesn’t manage words but he does give out a strangled smattering of syllables.

“Um.” Victor gestures with his hands but Yuuri frowns in confusion. 

“What is it?” Yuuri asks, skating over to him. Victor doesn’t take a step back but he sort of twitches a little at the closer proximity.

“Can I skate for you?” Victor asks, and he seems different. It takes Yuuri a moment to realize that Victor isn’t meeting his eyes but is instead glancing just off to the side.

“Okay,” Yuuri says, unsure of what’s happening. 

Victor’s fingers aren’t steady and it takes him a few attempts to get the music on his phone going. He manages to set his phone down and skate to the center of the rink without falling or knocking anything over. The song starts and Yuuri understands Victor’s reticence and nerves. It’s _Andante Festivo_ and Yuuri takes a shallow breath. 

He’s never really understood why or how someone can look up to him. There are legitimate geniuses on the ice and he’s just Katsuki Yuuri; he loved skating enough to out stubborn everyone else to a gold medal. There’s nothing glorious about the hours of work he put in and he doesn’t have an inspiring story. All he has is his aching body and broken mind that refuses to stop being on the ice. 

But it’s impossible to deny that somehow, Victor does look up to him, and he’s painfully sincere about his wish to have Yuuri coach him. Yuuri watches and thinks back to when he first started skating, when there were no medals or competitions, just his love of figure skating. That’s the feeling that echoes through Yuuri. 

Victor wants so badly that he’s willing to give up on everything he’s worked for on the off chance that Yuuri might accept his outlandish offer. It’s there in every inch of his skating, this loud and longing plea that he paints. Yuuri could have never skated _Andante Festivo_ like this because this song was a goodbye for him; for Victor, it’s almost the opposite. It’s a wish for Yuuri to stay on the ice a little longer, to keep on existing in the skating world, and to skate alongside Victor in some form if not in competition.

Yuuri already misses the ice and the competitive year hasn’t even started. He’s literally on ice right now. Victor glides into the final spin and he only holds the ending pose for a moment before dropping to his knees. He gets up and pushes himself towards Yuuri, expectant and waiting for his reaction.

“Victor,” he says slowly, relaxing his hands from where they were gripping onto the boards. “Thank you.” 

Victor beams at him even as he’s still desperately sucking in air. It’s completely at odds with the ephemeral skating he just finished. But Yuuri understands that rush and burn and it aches inside of him right now. He hands Victor his water bottle and waits as he downs a third of it.

“Did you...like it?” Victor manages. 

Yuuri is about to say he doesn’t deserve it when he stops himself. Victor gave him a gift and he can’t be anything but sincerely thankful. 

“I did,” he says, because he doesn’t have the words in English to explain how much it means. It helps that he can’t find the right thing to say in Japanese either. Still, despite how inadequate he is, Victor lights up.

“I really mean it when I say I’ve looked up to you for years,” Victor says. His breath and words are still a little choppy. Victor takes another long drink from his water bottle then glances at Yuuri. He’s waiting for something a verdict, and Yuuri bites his lip as he realizes what Victor wants to hear. 

Yuuri nods and his breath is shaky but he needs his next words to come out steady. 

“I still don’t think I’m coaching material,” Yuuri says and Victor visibly deflates. It’s uncanny how quickly it happens too but Yuuri realizes it’s because this is Victor’s last gambit. Skating is what they both know, after all, and intimately so. “So please, I want to apologize now for all the mistakes I’m going to make. But I promise you that I’ll work hard to take care of your career for this next year.” 

Victor’s head snaps up to look at him and his eyes are so wide that Yuuri can see himself in them. 

“Yuuri, do you mean…?” He trails off like he doesn’t dare speak the words. 

Yuuri nods and he doesn’t have to force a smile. 

“I look forward to working with you, Victor.” 

“Thank you so much, oh my god, this is a dream come true,” Victor wails and throws himself at Yuuri. 

Yuuri barely manages to catch him and keep upright; he panics a little at suddenly having an armful of teenage skater but he stops once he realizes that Victor is legitimately crying. And even though they’re happy tears, it’s still not fun.

It takes Victor a few minutes to calm down during which Yuuri awkwardly holds him and pats his back. Victor takes a step back, wiping at his eyes with his bare hands until Yuuri grabs a tissue from the boards. 

“I’m okay,” Victor says after blowing his nose. His eyes are still red but he’s smiling and Yuuri sighs in relief. “Can we start training now?” 

“No,” Yuuri says. He has so much to do before he can even remotely think about the teaching aspect of this whole gig. Yuuri clears his throat. “I mean, not yet. Give me a week to write out training plans. And I’ll have to call the JSF and the FFKK. And Mr. Feltsman. Oh god, I’m going to have to call Yakov Feltsman.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Victor says in an entirely too cheerful tone. “He’ll just yell a lot; probably in Russian so you won’t even understand.” 

Yuuri can’t decide if that’s better or worse. He settles for ignoring it all. Later, he can think about it all later.

“Do you want to take a break? I still have to practice,” Yuuri says. 

Victor thinks it over for a moment then nods. It seems like he’s going too quietly when Yuuri realizes that Victor is staring at him, ready to watch him practice with undivided attention. Yuuri sighs but sets the audio up on the speakers so Victor can listen too; he’s going to have to get used to Victor watching him practice since he’s agreed to coach him. 

The panic threatens to swallow him up again at what he’s agreed to but he shoves it back down and takes to the ice. It’s going to be a lot of trouble but he’s genuinely excited to work with Victor. He’s going to help Victor continue to grow into a phenomenal skater who can touch people’s hearts with his performance. Yuuri smiles to himself, small and certain. Something like that is worth the headache he’s going to get from dealing with the skating federations and Yuri-kun.

Oh god. He’s going to have to explain this to Yuri-kun. Yuuri looks at Victor who has stars in his eyes. 

It’s still probably definitely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a writing blog now @ scribblyorro on tumblr where I will post snippets, deleted scenes (there's some there for this ch 7), and whatever else people do on writing blogs. I assume you use them to procrastinate while writing really long chapters. 
> 
> Comments are appreciated and loved. You all spoil me with the nicest words and I adore you all <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9/18/2017: This chapter has been edited and a few lines have been added in. You can see a better breakdown on [my tumblr here.](https://scribblyorro.tumblr.com/post/165499215171/revised-and-added-lines-in-ch-8-of-i-know-where-my)  
> 

**Hasetsu, Japan**  
**May 2016**

Victor doesn’t have to say anything because Yuri can tell the moment they return from Ice Castle; Katsuki won’t look at him while Victor has too much energy and Yuri is frozen. They’re going to block the entrance but Yuri can’t move. His feet are rooted to the floorboards, stuck in place, because this is an option he has never considered. 

“What the fuck,” is the only thing he can safely say. It’s not enough to encompass the dread he can feel weighing down his gut but it’s the closest he can get to. 

Katsuki is still avoiding his eyes, looking down at his feet or just off to the side, but never actually meeting his gaze. Yuri is furious and gratified that Katsuki knows how badly he’s fucked up.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Victor says in delight, far too happy and joyous, and it’s sickening. Yuri is going to throw up at how brightly Victor is shining. The idiot is prancing around with his oversized mutt right underfoot. Yuri is going to trip him so he can fall into the table of tacky souvenirs and gifts. “I’m so lucky. You have no idea how grateful I am.” 

“Go clean up and then we need to sit down for lunch,” Katsuki tells him and Victor races off to shower and change. Obedient for once in his goddamn life because he’s gotten what he’s wanted and he’ll play at being a good listener until he gets bored and reverts to his usual tricks. 

Yuri barely waits for Victor to leave before he turns on Katsuki. 

“Why did you agree to coach him?” Yuri asks and he wants to sob and beg Katsuki not to do it but there’s no way he can word it that doesn’t make him sound desperate. 

“Only for a year,” Katsuki says as if that explains it all. Katsuki moves slowly as he pulls his backpack off and exchanges his shoes for slippers. He’s still not quite meeting his eyes and Yuri holds himself back from grabbing Katsuki’s face to force him into it. 

“Still! You said before you weren’t going to!” 

Katsuki hums and is quiet for a few moments as he thinks over his words. Yuri clenches his fists to keep himself from pacing in the entrance; he knows that look but he wants an answer now and he wants it to be a good one. 

“Well, he’s going to pay a coaching fee, and that could really help out-” 

“You are not going to fucking tell me it’s for the goddamn money,” Yuri snarls. The vehemence that he spits with surprises them both but he shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear that from you.” 

“It’s a lot of reasons, Yuri-kun,” Katsuki says. “I’m not going to win anymore prize money. It’s a legitimate concern.”

“Fuck. You.” Yuri rubs his hands over his face as if to keep himself from crying. He doesn’t know what he wants or what he’s feeling other than this is all wrong. And Katsuki doesn’t even realize it which is only making it all worse. “You said you weren’t going to.” 

Even he can hear how petulant he sounds, repeating the same simple words over and over as if Katsuki will just snap out of it and take it all back. He can tell Victor he’s decided against taking him on as a student. It’s possible; it’s so simple. 

“He’s serious,” Katsuki says softly, a small note of wonder in his voice that Yuri cannot understand. He’s looking at his hands and smiling a little. It’s riveting, stunning as always to see Katsuki looking like that but he can’t enjoy it. “I thought he was messing around but he’s actually really serious about this all. He wants me to coach him. He thinks I’m good enough for it.” 

“That’s not the issue here,” Yuri says because of course Katsuki is qualified enough. Anyone would pay through the nose to get Katsuki to coach them. 

“I’ve never coached anyone before,” Katsuki says and he’s about to spew more bullshit when Yuri slams his hand against the wall. Katsuki blinks.

“That’s not the fucking issue here,” Yuri repeats. 

“Then what is it? Why are you so pissed off about this?” Katsuki shakes his head and now he meets Yuri’s eyes. He’s entirely too calm and Yuri wants him to cry or scream, to do something other than look at him with those wide eyes. Katsuki isn’t an idiot but right now he’s being worse than Victor. “Why does it matter so much to you if I coach Victor?” 

There’s an easy answer here. Katsuki is coaching his competitor. That could be a good enough answer and if he spun it just right it could probably wipe this all away. 

Yuri swallows because he can’t bring himself to say any of that. It’s true but he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about any of that. 

Coaching means Katsuki won’t be competing. It’s the final nail in the coffin. It keeps Katsuki in the sport but it doesn’t keep him on ice. 

And it’s not what Yuri wants. There’s something else he’s grasping for but what that answer is he cannot fathom. All he can understand is that he doesn’t want this. 

“I don’t understand you,” is what he ends up saying. It doesn’t clear anything up and it isn’t the answer Katsuki is looking for but it’s all that Yuri can manage to say. 

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki says and it should be a balm, all the more that he is genuinely bothered at upsetting Yuri. But that only means that Katsuki isn’t changing his mind and Yuri needs him to. 

This isn’t how this was supposed to go. Yuri was meant to return triumphant with a Victor ashamed by his failure in tow.

“I’m done. I can’t take this bullshit. I can’t-You can’t-” Yuri shakes his head and takes a step back. Katsuki is watching him, worried, hands twitching at his side as if wanting to reach out to touch him. And Yuri wishes that would be enough to soothe this pain away. “I’m done.”

Yuri turns around and walks to back to his room in a daze. He’s running away with his tail between his legs, fleeing like a coward, but he can’t stay here. Part of him listens at the door for Katsuki’s footsteps while the rest of him is filled with too much disgust to care. It only deepens when no one approaches his room.

Yuri stops throwing his clothes into his backpack. Bringing Victor back to Yakov was part of the plan but was that really all his plan entailed? Katsuki would still be off the ice and Yuri’s heart aches anew at the thought. 

Yuri doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know anything.

In a minute he’s going to pull out his phone and look up the subway times. He just needs to be out of the stupid onsen with its fucking idiotic skaters and charming facade. Yuri doesn’t want relaxation; he wants to burn something to the ground and maybe punch Katsuki in the face. 

There’s a vague thought that he should check out and say a proper goodbye to the hosts for letting him stay here. But he wants, needs out.

Yuri is walking, slowly clearing his mind, when a car pulls up and slows down beside him. He’s about to tell the driver off when he looks up to see it’s Katsuki. Yuri scowls and walks a little faster even as he knows it’s useless.

“You weren’t in your room and-” Katsuki starts.

“I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t even want to fucking look at you,” Yuri says. 

Katsuki is quiet for a moment, and his car stills; Yuri walks off as fast as he can. But after a few seconds he catches back up. 

“Okay. But you still need a ride to the airport, right?” Katsuki says. 

Yuri glares at him. He contemplates running. Then he throws himself in the front seat and presses himself as close to the door as possible. He ignores the way Katsuki bites his lip and he digs out his headphones. They’re not the oversized ones from his teenage days but a slim set of earbuds from Harman Audio as part of their sponsorship. It doesn’t have the same effect and Yuri’s scowl widens.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, strained and awkward, but Yuri stubbornly keeps looking out the window and refuses to speak. Katsuki can start the damn conversation. 

Katsuki sighs and then inhales, about to say something. Yuri decides he doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Shut up,” Yuri snaps before Katsuki can actually speak. 

“Yuri-kun-”

“I said, shut up. I don’t want to fucking hear it.” 

“No, you’re going to listen to me,” Katsuki says and Yuri turns to look at him. Katsuki keeps his eyes on the road. It’s on purpose because there are no other cars around.

“Fine,” Yuri says and looks back out the window. He takes his headphones out too and pointedly drops them in his lap. “Then talk.”

Katsuki takes a deep breath. 

“I didn’t even know what I wanted to do when I decided to retire,” Katsuki says. “Coaching was a possibility but who would even want me as a coach? I’d never done it before.” 

“If you didn’t know what the fuck you wanted then why did you retire anyway?” Yuri asks. 

“It was time,” Katsuki says, still maddeningly calm. 

“Bullshit,” Yuri mumbles. He drums his fingertips against his arm as he waits. 

“I...don’t know how to explain it,” Katsuki murmurs. Yuri wants to look at him, and he chances a glance, but all he can see is Katsuki’s hands tightly gripping the wheel. “I needed it all to come to an end. I don’t think I could have made it for another year.”

“You said before you could,” Yuri says. 

“Then I came home. And it’s such a weight off my shoulders that I don’t have to put anything together for the next year.”

“But you’ll have to do stuff for Victor’s year.” 

“But that’ll be for Victor, not for me,” Katsuki says. “Nothing for me. And I’m okay with that.”

“You keep talking about how you’re retired. You’re done. Why are you coming back like this?” Yuri demands. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.” 

“Then how is it supposed to go?” Katsuki asks. Yuri hesitates because he doesn’t know the answer. God he wishes he knew. Katsuki nods at that, satisfied somehow by Yuri’s uncertainty. “I get to choose, Yuri-kun. This wasn’t what I planned but it’s something I want to do now. I want to work with Victor and I know it won’t be easy but it’s something I want to do.” 

“But why?” It’s a testament to his mental fortitude that he doesn’t ask why Katsuki has decided to coach Victor of all people.

“I think I can actually help him in a way that he needs,” Katsuki says. “And I’m not tired of figure skating. I’m not even tired of competitions. I still want to watch you, Chris, and Phichit. I think this might be a good way to stay on the ice without actually competing myself. I’m going to miss it! I’m going to miss it a lot. But I think this will be better, you know?” 

“I don’t fucking know shit anymore,” Yuri mutters, clear enough that Katsuki can hear him. Katsuki sighs and doesn’t say anything more. 

Yuri watches as Katsuki pulls up to a parking spot, one of the furthest away when there are plenty closer by, the subway visible. He grabs his stuff and tries to hurry out. Katsuki won’t agree to cut Victor loose and that’s all Yuri wants to hear from him. Katsuki clears his throat and Yuri pauses to look up at him, fighting down the hopeful feeling in his chest.

“Can...can you text me when you get home safely?” Katsuki asks. 

“Fuck you,” Yuri snarls, catching sight of Katsuki’s wounded expression. It’s equal parts gratifying and dismaying. He can’t stop himself. But why should he? Katsuki didn’t think about him before making the decision to coach Victor after insisting he wanted nothing to do with him. Yuri lets himself keep talking, doesn’t retract his claws, because he wants Katsuki to bleed. “Don’t talk to me ever again. You’re shit, Katsuki, a goddamn piece of shit.” 

He slams the door and doesn’t turn around to look. All he wants to do is go home. So he goes.

**U.S. International Figure Skating Classic**  
**Salt Lake City, Utah, United States of America**  
**September 2014**

America is always loud. Yuuri lives in Detroit most of the time and he’s been in the States long enough that it’s finally familiar rather than terrifyingly dizzying, but each time he skates here he’s surprised anew at just how cacophonous Americans can be. 

The NHK Trophy will be louder though. He’s Japan’s ace and the crowds turn out to support the reigning champion. 

And that happens to be him.

Yuuri shifts on his blades and looks forward to avoid anyone’s eyes. He’s tired but he doesn’t know how to explain it without worrying Celestino. It’s partly physical but it’s also something deeper, as if his very bones ache with exhaustion. He could sleep for a hundred years and then maybe he would wake up well rested. 

But he knows what that sounds like and it’s not like that. 

It’s easier to focus on one thing at a time. 

Yuuri runs his fingers over the outlines on his outfit, refraining from picking at the red and gold glitter that wraps around his arms. 

Practice is almost ready to start and the moment the staff gives the signal he bolts for the ice. Some of his tension leaves him as he keeps his strokes steady. 

He catches Celestino’s gaze but he can’t understand what he sees there. Yuuri contemplates going over but he doesn’t know what to say. He pushes himself forward to jump.

But he’s not going fast enough and he pops the triple axel, throwing his leg out to keep himself upright. Yuuri lands and tries to keep his breathing steady. It’s practice so he doesn’t hide how frustrated he is even with how public his failure is. 

Celestino is watching, eyebrows furrowed in that way which means he’s well aware that Yuuri is fucking everything up. 

Yuuri starts gathering up speed to try the axel once more. It’s one of his favorite jumps and he rarely messes it up like this. He’s been landing triple axels for years. 

He pops it again. 

His third attempt is thwarted when another skater falls in front of him and he skates around him easily. But seeing his pinched and displeased face makes Yuuri decide against doing anymore jumps. He practices a few of his steps until they’re called off the ice.

“Are you okay?” Celestino asks. 

Yuuri makes an affirmative noise because he can’t exactly scream. And it’s not like he knows what’s wrong inside his head. It’s not worth it to bother Celestino about it when he doesn’t even have a clue about why everything seems off.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. The competition is where it counts,” Celestino says, with a hearty slap on the back. 

It’s supposed to be encouraging but it only makes Yuuri want to hide from the world. He’s not good enough to be here. His previous wins are flukes. They have to be. He isn’t Japan’s ace, a three time GPF champion, or a skater defending his many titles. Somehow he’s managed to fool everyone but it’s going to come crashing down now. 

“Right,” Yuuri says faintly because Celestino expects an answer. 

They’re quiet as they watch the other skaters; Celestino murmurs to himself as he takes note of the competition but Yuuri can’t focus. He’s not exactly nervous. He wants to perform his best and take gold. But part of him doesn’t want to be near the ice and Yuuri is terrified of that because this is what he loves. 

At the same time he wishes he were allowed to just stand on the ice because it would make him feel so much more at ease. And it bothers him that he can feel such opposing emotions about this.

Celestino is talking to him when Yuuri realizes that he’s next up after the current skater out there. He hurriedly makes his way to the gate and takes off his blade guards.

“Yuuri, just do it like in practice. I know you can do this. No worries, right?” Celestino says.

Yuuri takes a moment too long to nod. Celestino means well. He’s a good coach and friend. Yuuri has come far with his help. 

And Yuuri can’t explain what the ‘but’ is to all of that. All he has is a growing itch under his skin and a squeezing sensation between his ribs that something is wrong.

He waits until he’s on the ice skating to the center to shake his head and shoulders, trying to loosen up. It’s time to perform, and he has to get in the right mindset. 

Yuri-kun isn’t out in the audience but Yuuri takes a shallow breath as he takes his starting position, equally worried and exhilarated. He’ll be watching, of that Yuuri has no doubt. 

_Danza Ritual del Fuego_ begins to play and Yuuri counts the beats until it’s time to start skating. He thinks back to the first time Yuri-kun kissed him, to that fervor and heat that had risen up in him, to how good it had felt to touch Yuri-kun back and make him moan. 

Yuuri moves, his body ready and confident, because he knows this dance. 

Yuuri doesn’t hate Yuri-kun, but he gets frustrated with him, all the more that he’s pretty sure that Yuri-kun doesn’t hate him either. His weak attempts at trying to coax the answer out of Yuri though are always violently rebuffed. It’s partly Yuuri’s fault, because if he’s wrong, then everything is over. So he never pushes too hard and he’s a coward. 

‘Watch me,’ he thinks as he lands his triple axel. 

The crowd screams and Yuuri lets himself grin for a moment.This is his question and answer in a language Yuri-kun cannot fail to understand. 

He twists and spins, tossing his head back as the violins and horns sing in symphony. It’s not possible to continue like this; he needs to know what Yuri-kun truly wants of him. 

Yuuri comes to a stop and slices the air with his hands, sharp and determined. His next steps come fast with the crescendo and climax of the song. 

Something has to change. Yuuri steps to each note of the horn as it flies through the ending.

He’s not patient enough to keep waiting. Yuuri cuts into the ice on the last note, one hand raised in a triumphant fist. 

The crowd cheering breaks him of the welcoming haze he gets from skating and Yuuri has to blink a few times before his exhaustion catches up with him. For a moment it felt like he had the answer and everything had been good. He waves to the crowd, something genuine in his smile for the first time in what feels like forever. 

After a few bows he makes his way to the kiss and cry, stopping to pick up a few of the individual flowers. In those few seconds and despite his best efforts to fight it, his mood from before returns. Yuuri is the same as he was before because he doesn’t have solutions nor replies. 

“Do you think that was enough?” Yuuri murmurs as he plays with the protective plastic on the flowers. It’s not directed at Celestino, and in fact, Yuuri wouldn’t even be able to pick what exactly he’s referring to if asked. But Celestino takes his question at face value. 

“You’ll definitely score high,” Celestino says with an encouraging smile. 

Yuuri raises his head as his name and score are called out but he can’t focus. Celestino congratulates him but he barely hears the words that would have once meant the world. The plastic crinkles, louder than Celestino or the cheering crowd.

It’s just all so much. 

**Hasetsu, Japan**  
**June 2016**

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? Sae-kun said she wouldn’t mind overseeing your training for these two weeks,” Yuuri asks Victor as they finish lacing their skates up.

A Japanese skater by the name of Minami Kenjirou is coming to Hasetsu for two weeks so that he can train with Yuuri. Victor doesn’t know how to explain that he’s not jealous so much as put out that Yuuri is basically going to ignore him for half a month to choreograph for someone else. He’s not going to kicked out completely, thank you very much; Yuuri is his coach. 

“I like Sae but I want to watch you,” Victor says and it sounds a little creepy, especially once he sees Yuuri raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean, I want to see how you coach someone else, not that I want to watch you like I’m some kind of stalker. I’m not a stalker.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says, unconvinced but looking distinctly less concerned. “But my attention is going to be on Minami-kun. I don’t want to catch you messing around or distracting him.” 

“I would never,” Victor says, eyes wide and innocent. Yuuri gives him another look. He taps his blade guards against the boards once, the dull thud of the plastic against the wood echoing in the rink. “Okay, I’m serious, I promise.”

“Good.” Yuuri drops his guards and takes off, warming up with a set of deep forward inside edges and rockers, elegant as he changes from one edge to the other.

Victor makes sure that his sigh is quiet so that Yuuri can’t hear it. He starts his own warm up on the other side of the rink, torn between being bothered that he won’t have Yuuri’s attention on him and delighted that he’s practicing on the same rink as Yuuri. They’re sharing the same ice and once that would have been enough to satisfy Victor. 

He’s gotten greedy and that knowledge irritates him almost as much as the feeling itself. Especially because he’s known that Minami was coming to work on his choreography. 

Actually, Minami takes precedence because he’s had this scheduled long before Victor showed up in Hasetsu to demand Yuuri’s attention. Victor only feels slightly guilty about that, in that Yuuri has already canceled one ice show in order to work with him, but he’s too thrilled about getting his way to let it drag him down. 

Victor has to forcibly hide a scowl when Yuuko walks in with Minami. The red highlights in his hair make him look ridiculous and he’s awfully small for a senior skater. They’re speaking in Japanese and Minami outright squeals when he sees Yuuri. It makes Victor feel a little better that Yuuri winces and stops Minami from bowing and groveling. 

After a few moments Yuuri looks to Victor and he takes it as an invitation to come stand by him.

“You know Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri says.

Victor allows himself to preen a little, just a shade, because of course Minami knows about him; he gets to be coached by Yuuri and it probably eats him alive. Then Minami starts speaking. And it’s in the most rapid fire Japanese Victor has heard since he arrived in the country. His eyes widen a little and he looks to Yuuri for help.

“Victor doesn’t speak Japanese so English please,” Yuuri says. Minami nods his head in agreement and turns to Victor. 

“I’m so jealous of you,” Minami says, his hands clasped together against his chest. Victor wonders if this is what he looks like. He’s much prettier so he probably paints a much more charming image. He can live with that. 

“Nice to meet you,” Victor says with a beautifully crafted smile. He doesn’t extend his hand or return Minami’s wave. Instead, he tosses his ponytail off his shoulder and keeps his smile in place. “I look forward to facing you in competition.” 

“Me too,” Minami says. He’s grinning and it’s so good natured that Victor is a little ashamed at his poor attitude even though that’s not at all what Minami is going for. “I’m still sad Yuuri-kun won’t be there.” 

“I know,” Victor exclaims. “We are all being robbed. How could he retire after that last performance? And he’s still fantastic! Have you been watching any of the ice shows?” 

“All of them! You’re so lucky you go with him. I’m stuck with youtube,” Minami whines. 

“I don’t think-” Yuuri starts but neither of them hear him. Victor has found one of his people. And while Minami’s English is heavily accented he’s more than comprehensible.

“Go to one! It’s worth it. I have some videos on my phone but they’re not any better.” 

“I went last year. But I was in it too. It was so great. We both were in The Ice. I will never forget Osaka because of that. I have to see those videos. Please show them to me. Right now.” 

Victor already has his phone out and the album open. The best video is on his twitter already, of course, but he has so many others. It’s hard to pick the first one to show him. 

“Okay, this one was the Dreams on Ice in, I think the city name started with a ‘y’, and it’s my second favorite. Yuuri does this amazing triple lutz at the end and-” 

“Absolutely not happening,” Yuuri interjects, snatching Victor’s phone away. Victor and Minami cry out and Yuuri puts a hand to his forehead. “We are practicing. You guys can talk about whatever you want even if it’s really weird for me. But it’s all going to happen after we finish on the ice, got it?” 

Minami bows and apologizes, which Victor decides to follow suit; it’s worth it for the confused look Yuuri shoots him. He hands him his phone back.

“Go,” Yuuri says as he points to the other side of the rink.

“Let’s trade numbers after practice, okay, Victor-kun?” Minami calls out. 

“Yeah! I have so many more videos and photos to show you. The best ones are online but-” 

“Victor. Go,” Yuuri repeats, a little exasperated. 

Victor gives Yuuri a blinding smile as he skates to his side which Yuuri ignores with the same ease that Yakov did. It’s kind of disappointing. There was something awfully fun about being able to successfully pout and get his rink time lengthened. It still works on the Nishigoris though.

He dutifully works on his edge exercises for a few minutes. Then he looks up at Yuuri to see if he’s watching and to reward himself for working so hard. 

Ice Castle is small enough that if they had been speaking English, Victor could have heard them with ease; but of course they aren’t. Still, Yuuri sounds about the same, and Victor is very familiar with that soft but firm tone. He claps his hands a few times, and Minami looks hard in thought as he attempts to mimic him. 

They look like they’re having so much more fun. Victor goes for the triple flip again, taking careful note of how far he travels, wondering what the odds are of convincing Yuuri to let him try training for a quadruple flip. Yura has been showing off his attempts at the other three quads though he’d been arguing against using the harness the entire time Victor had been there. 

Yuuri would probably make him wear one too and Victor doesn’t really want to have that argument with him too. He feels like he just had it with Yakov. It’s all about safety and he knows that, but it’s so uncomfortable. And it throws off his balance and speed. 

He does another triple flip instead. Then a triple axel because maybe it would be better to start asking Yuuri to attempt a quad axel so that he can work him down to a quad flip. Yakov would have just yelled at him to get back on the ice or go home but Yuuri is more willing to listen to Victor. 

“Victor?” Yuuri calls out and Victor nearly trips over himself so he can rush over to Yuuri.

“Yes?”

“Can you record for us?” Yuuri asks, handing him Minami’s phone. 

“Of course I can,” Victor says. To his delight it’s Yuuri that he’ll be recording and Minami stands next to him, eyes on the real thing as Victor holds up the phone. The phone is thankfully already set up for a video and Victor gives Yuuri the signal to go ahead. 

There’s no music but Yuuri Katsuki has never needed it to entrance the world with his skating. You can hear it just by watching him.

The way Yuuri moves now is totally different from his usual smooth grace. There’s a bounce and beat to his feet but it’s still one continuous motion. Victor doesn’t know much about Minami but there’s no way that he’ll be able to make it as beautiful as Yuuri does. It’s definitely not Yuuri’s piece though; his arms are only moving to keep his balance and there’s nothing deep in it. 

Minami sighs in delight and Victor echoes him, taking care to keep quiet so the video doesn’t pick it up. Victor nearly misses Yuuri’s cue to stop recording. He’s so lucky to be here, getting to watch this. 

Minami calls something out and Victor barely picks out Yuuri’s name in the excited tone. Yuuri shakes his head at him but that doesn’t dampen Minami’s enthusiasm. Yuuri thanks Victor as he takes the phone back and they all huddle around it. 

It’s a miscalculation on Victor’s part though because Yuuri and Minami are back to speaking in Japanese. He can’t demand they speak English for him when he’s not a part of this at all. But he wants to know what kind of advice Yuuri is parting onto Minami. Yuuri is his coach.

“Okay, again,” Yuuri says and Minami gives a sharp nod. 

Minami skates to the middle and he takes a few moments to adjust himself and think about how he’s going to move. It’s different this time, and Victor stays to watch him, fascinated at the difference in movement. Minami isn’t as elegant as Yuuri but his choppier motions fit with the rest of his body. There’s energy to it that wasn’t present when Yuuri skated the piece. 

Victor doesn’t know Minami but Yuuri certainly does; he looks over to see Yuuri give Minami an approving look. When Minami comes to a stop, Yuuri gives him a thumbs up, and Minami jumps and punches the air. 

“Shouldn’t you be practicing?” Yuuri asks, turning to Victor.

“I was wondering when you were going to say something,” Victor says. 

“I was hoping you’d remember on your own,” Yuuri says. 

“Sorry,” Victor says. He’s not and Yuuri can tell. 

“You said you weren’t going to do this.”

“Minami is so lucky,” Victor says with a sigh. Yuuri gives him a curious look. “You’re choreographing for him.” 

“I’m doing both of your programs,” Yuuri reminds him as Minami starts his program again.

“He gets you these two whole weeks,” Victor complains. Yuuri is so focused on Minami that he’s not paying Victor any attention. He’s had time to come to grips with this but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to whine about it. 

“Victor.” Yuuri groans. “We talked about this.” 

“I know but-” 

“If you’re going to be here then I want you practicing your edges, not flips and axels. I’m not worried about your jumps right now.”

So Yuuri was keeping an eye on him. Victor smiles a little; he hadn’t been testing Yuuri but he’d gotten bored of the edge drills.

“I know, I know, my edges suck,” Victor says. He knows that he’s got sloppy transitions and his grade of execution on his step sequences is too low for the senior circuit. His arm motions have been described as a fish swimming through an ocean of wet concrete. (Yakov had laughed so hard his hat had fallen off at hearing that one). But it’s so much more fun to practice his jumps. 

“I didn’t say _that_ ,” Yuuri says. “They’re good, really good. But you want to enter seniors and blow everyone away, right? Then you need to improve on your weaknesses so that no one can doubt your victory.” 

Victor blinks then nods fiercely. 

Yuuri gets him in a way Yakov hasn’t been able to; he’s not sure if it’s because Yuuri has recently retired from the competitive aspect of skating or if it’s because they’re closer in age but Victor appreciates it all the same. 

“But if we’re talking about my jumps already then-” 

“Edges. Go,” Yuuri says. He looks amused though. “We’ll talk about it later.” 

Victor pauses for a moment. 

“Promise?” 

“Oh god, I’m going to regret this. Yes, we will,” Yuuri says. He’s waving his hand to shoo him away. Victor smiles and skates away to practice. He’s going to win everything with Yuuri as his coach and it’s going to be amazing.

**St Petersburg, Russia**  
**August 2011**

“Cast it away, Yuri,” Lilia says and she’s got her gaze narrowed onto him. Private practices are brutal because Lilia can give him all of her attention. And Lilia isn’t satisfied with just focusing on his physical aspects; she understands the emotional weight behind the performance far better than most people. “Your old self is weak. Rise from the ashes and create yourself anew. It is the only way to victory.” 

“I get it,” Yuri says, and he fights to keep from gasping on any of the syllables. He will show her no weakness, at least not yet; maybe towards the end of the session when his muscles are screaming and his mind is lost to exhaustion.

“You don’t,” Lilia says simply. “Fix your right leg. Bring it two centimeters forward.” 

Yuri obeys even as his thighs burn. Lilia doesn’t have a hair out of place while Yuri is sweating like a pig. 

“Kill it, Yuri.” Lilia watches, and she doesn’t like what she sees. All Yuri can do is keep dancing, but this room is too small and the ground is too hard. He wants the ice. But this is Lilia’s time and she won't indulge his whims. “You aren’t trying enough. You’re clinging to your past. Weak, foolish boy-”

“I can’t,” Yuri says, and Lilia stops as he drops to his knees, the sudden silence in the room deafening after the loud thump of Yuri falling down.. 

He stares at the worn floorboards, unable to look up at her. There are parts of himself he can’t let go of. People he doesn’t want to forget, relationships that he is going to keep at the front and center of his world, and he wants to burn it all away but he can’t.

“Yuri.” 

He can’t ignore the order and looks up at her. Lilia doesn’t soften but something in her face changes. Her foot taps once against the ground and Yuri twitches a little at the dull sound.

“If it’s that important then you must build around it and let it be part of you. Decide how important it is to your very essence.” 

Yuri holds her gaze. She’s spoken words out loud that he’s kept pushing back. Lilia stares back down at him without doubt or hesitation. This is a path she has walked down before. 

Part of him wants to know what she has cut away from her own persona and what she has allowed to stay. But she would never tell him. It’s too personal. Even between the two of them, when Lilia knows more about Yuri than he knows about himself, there are matters he won’t discuss with her. 

What’s important to him? Faces flash through his mind but nothing settles. He wants to win and blaze a trail that will take decades to break. 

His muscles relax a little but his hands are still in tight fists against the floor. Lilia looks straight ahead and taps her foot again. Yuri can feel it reverberate but her disdain doesn’t penetrate the way he usually does.

“If you hesitate, you will fail,” Lilia says. 

“It’s not as easy as you make it sound,” Yuri snarls back. 

“Don’t repeat such banal phrases at me,” Lilia says. “We both know you’re capable of more.” 

Yuri snarls again but without words this time. Nothing he says will dissuade Lilia though and he can’t spit out the words he usually leans on. She doesn’t try to temper his anger and he briefly wonders if she’s trying to get him to explode at her. 

“You’re outgrowing me,” she says and her tone isn’t softer but it goes quiet. Yuri freezes, his thoughts coming to a grinding stop, because he wasn’t expecting anything like this. She shakes her head. “No, not quite. You’re going someplace I cannot follow. I cannot and will not. Do you understand what I mean by that?” 

“No,” Yuri says, trying to be as blunt and forceful as possible. But he does know. 

Lilia teaches him grace and beauty but that’s not Yuri anymore. He’s not a fey creature of the ice. But now he’s not sure who or what he is. Yuri stands up and gets his water bottle, slowing sipping it, partly as a way to stave off whatever Lilia is about to say. 

“I am still your instructor,” Lilia says. “Start from the beginning. Your steps are too sloppy. Find your focus and get it right.” 

She doesn’t have to remind him that he’s wasting her time otherwise. Yuri nods and sets the bottle down to tie his hair back up. He has a season to prepare for and records to beat.

**Lombardia Trophy**  
**Bergamo, Italy**  
**September 2016**

It’s been four months and five days since he last spoke to Yuri-kun. Yuri-kun had posted a photo of himself with his cats once he had returned to Russia so Yuuri knows he arrived safely. But it wasn’t meant for him, probably wasn’t anything deeper than a photo for his fans, the people he considers part of his life. To Yuri-kun, Yuuri chose Victor over him, and that’s all there is to it in his mind. 

It had never been a choice between Victor and Yuri-kun though. If Yuuri had known he would have physically escorted Victor onto a plane back to Russia. 

He slides his phone back into his pocket to keep from checking it. Yuri-kun hasn’t responded to his texts in months, no matter how much Yuuri texts or what the subject matter is. Today will be no different but he still sends them. It was a mistake to let Yuri-kun leave like that but even now Yuuri isn’t sure what he could have said to make him stay longer.

Yuuri takes a breath before he enters the arena; any hesitation or nerves won’t be attributed to Yuri-kun. Today the focus is on Victor’s debut as a senior skater and Yuuri’s as a coach. That’s where his attention and energy need to be, not fruitlessly worrying about anyone else.

His hands aren’t shaking, his breathing is only slightly unsteady because now he’s focusing on it, and his stomach is calm; so far everything is going splendidly. And Sae-kun hasn’t felt the need to feel his forehead for a fever, which according to Takuma-kun is apparently her first instinct when she thinks something is wrong with someone.

“I’m glad you’re here, Sae-kun,” Yuuri admits, scratching at the back of his neck. “I never realized everything that coaches have to do. I think Celestino tried to stealth teach me but I was always too focused on the competition to really pay attention.”

“It’s different to be on the other side,” Sae-kun agrees as she wrestles with the pin on her badge. It keeps popping out every five minutes and Yuuri is slightly curious as to what’s going to happen once Sae-kun has had enough of it. “And you’re not doing too bad. Your skater doesn’t seem like he’s panicking.” 

Victor blessedly doesn’t understand a word of Japanese. He’s busy looking around, wide eyed and eager to compete, and Yuuri is jealous of how unafraid he is. If he’d had even a drop of that confidence his whole life would have been so completely different.

“That does not have anything to do with me,” Yuuri says. “I think he was born to compete. He’s been ready since he showed up in Hasetsu.” 

“And poor Takuma-kun is here shaking in his boots,” Sae-kun says.

“Please stop saying that, Coach,” Takuma-kun says, rolling his eyes behind her back. He’s pulling at the hem of his official jacket but Yuuri says nothing. “I’m nervous but it’s not my first year anymore.” 

“You’re so brave,” Sae-kun says and Takuma-kun scowls. 

“I hated drawing first too,” Yuuri says. 

“See, it’s not just me,” Takuma-kun said. “And you said I was whining.” 

“You are,” Sae-kun says. 

“Is Katsuki-san whining too?” 

“He’s reminiscing. It’s different,” Sae-kun says with a wave of her hand. Takuma-kun groans and rolls his eyes but now he’s too annoyed to be nervous. Yuuri pretends not to notice.

He leaves them so they can get ready and stands off with the other skaters; Victor has nearly tripped over his own feet about a dozen times because he’s too busy looking around and Yuuri needs him to stay still for a minute. He’ll take ten seconds at this point. 

“I wish Takuma-kun spoke more English,” Victor says with a pout. “I don’t think he understood me when I asked him why his hair looked so greasy. I know he pulls it back for practice but it looks so gross like that. It doesn’t even look brown anymore, it’s almost black. I can show him how to do it right.”

Yuuri doesn’t have to look Victor over to know that he’s impeccably put together. And it looks good too; his hair is done up in braids that somehow stick to his head. There are just enough gold and green sequins on his outfit that it adds color to the black without looking gaudy or overdone. 

Thankfully that’s a skill that Victor seems to possess on his own because the extent of Yuuri’s professional knowledge is how to apply concealer so he doesn’t look like he’s been sobbing and how to keep his hair out of his face.

“He’s better than I was at his age,” Yuuri says. “And he’s nervous. I don’t think he was ignoring you. Sae-kun said that they’ve been having trouble with his short program.” 

“He didn’t seem that worried to me? When we were practicing last week it looked good. I’m going to beat it but if he skates it clean then he’ll be good competition for me.” 

“Please stop talking like that,” Yuuri says, thankful that Victor is speaking in a low enough tone that no one should be able to hear him. The noise of the audience and the various staff around adds to his relief. 

Victor looks like he’s about to say something more but then the announcer calls out Takuma-kun’s name; Victor leans over the rink board and cups his hands around his mouth.

“Good luck, Takuma-kun!” Victor shouts out. Yuuri notes with some surprise that he says it in decent Japanese. He doesn’t wipe the look away quick enough when Victor turns to him with a proud smile. “You probably never heard me but when I would see you compete in person I used to shout that whenever it was your turn.” 

“I’m kind of sad I never did,” Yuuri says. 

Victor’s smile widens and Yuuri wonders if he’s getting better at saying the right thing or if Victor is that easily pleased by any words from his supposed idol. 

Then Takuma-kun falls on his first jump, what should have been a solid triple axel.

“Oh, he is nervous,” Victor says, a small note of amazement in his voice. 

“It happens to everyone. And it’s the first competition of the year,” Yuuri says. He carefully watches Victor, who seems slightly confused but doesn’t ask or say anything more. 

Takuma-kun doesn’t recover and Yuuri aches for him; he knows that pain well. But he finishes the program and manages to land his triple salchow triple toe loop combination. Victor makes to go say something to Takuma-kun as he bows and quickly makes his way off the ice but Yuuri grabs his arm and shakes his head.

“Let Sae-kun do her job,” he says gently, watching as Takuma-kun slots the guards onto his blades. He’s upset but Sae-kun is speaking to him with a comforting hand on his back and he already looks better than he was a minute ago. “You have your own performance to worry about.” 

“But he’s my rinkmate, right? Shouldn’t I-?” 

“Later,” Yuuri says. “I know how you feel. But I don’t think it’s a good idea right now. What would you even say to him?” 

Victor visibly stops to think at that and Yuuri lets his arm go. 

“I’m sure Yakov didn’t let you run after every skater,” Yuuri says. 

“It was different,” Victor says and offers nothing else. 

Yuuri decides it’s a matter for another day. It’s not often that Victor stays quiet about something. It only lasts for a few minutes before Victor is wondering how Takuma-kun is doing, complementing the next skater’s outfit while criticizing his lack of make up, and reminding Yuuri that he has to watch him skate.

Yuuri points out that he’s his coach but that just sends Victor off into another spiel about how lucky and fantastic his life is. It’s a relief when Victor’s name is called.

“You don’t need to wish me luck,” Victor says as he leans over the rink board. “I’m going to be amazing.” 

Yuuri blinks. He settles for a smile. 

“Then do your best,” he says and it’s absolutely stupid. One of the top ten most idiotic things to say to a skater before they go to perform; Phichit is going to hear about this somehow and tweet it with the most mocking gif he can find. 

But Victor grins as if that’s enough. Then again, it’s not like Victor is lacking in self confidence, so maybe Yuuri doesn’t really have anything to offer in that regard. 

Yuuri holds his breath as the first notes of _Fugue No. 7 in A Major_ begin to play. It’s a playful and bright piece, the piano quick as the notes cascade around the stadium; Victor moves to it, not sharp but swift. He’s so earnestly confident with a smile on his face as his body obeys his commands. 

The first jump comes and Yuuri exhales in relief as Victor lands the quad toe loop. He’s got a bad habit of letting his arms hang when he jumps but they were pulled in far more than any time Yuuri has seen so far. 

And then Victor jumps again.

It’s a quadruple salchow and Yuuri lets his fingernails bite into his skin for a moment as he watches Victor hit the ice. He’s sure it was under rotated and either way the fall will mark him down. Victor should have stayed with the triple there. It’s still early in the season and there’s no need to rush himself. 

It’s hard to know what to do with his face as he watches Victor transition to a forward camel spin. He’s travelling too far on it. 

Does he let himself frown at all of the obvious mistakes he sees? It’s Victor’s first time performing his pieces in front of an audience and judges. They have lots of time to iron out the flaws and polish it up. The difference between a piece at the beginning of a season and the end can be vast; Yuuri was notorious for changing up his program layouts in order to win and it wasn’t reserved for just the jumps. 

Is it okay if he’s quiet and keeps all his thoughts to himself? There are cameras everywhere and while most of them are on Victor as he bows to the audience, soon they’ll be directed at the kiss and cry. And there’s always one that’s looking around for something more interesting. Yakov has had some interesting expressions at Yuri-kun’s falls and more memorable last minute program changes.

“Yuuri! How did I do?” Victor asks. He’s holding up a bright bouquet that matches the gold sequins on his arms and chest. 

“It was good,” Yuuri says truthfully as he hands him his blade guards. “We have a lot to work on though.” 

“Aw, you sound like Yakov,” Victor says, which stings a little, but he’s smiling so he’s probably not that serious. It’s hard to tell with Victor sometimes. “He always scolds me when I finish.” 

Yuuri can see why if this is what Victor usually does. 

“I’m withholding the serious scolding until we get your scores,” Yuuri says as they sit down in the kiss and cry. 

“Scary!” But Victor is busy waving at the audience and the cameras. He seems at ease until he sits down properly and he’s clutching the bouquet just a little too tight. When his name is called, he startles, and pretends like that didn’t happen even though the whole world saw. 

Yuuri nods in approval at the 37.12 for the presentation and choreography score. That’ll go up in due time and if Victor concentrates on the actual performance rather than trying to out jump everyone. 

“I wanted to break the one hundred mark,” Victor says with determination in his eyes. 

“Did you now,” Yuuri says and he’s going to have to readjust his view of Victor. There’s genius and he knows the saying about it being borderline madness but Victor might actually be a little bit crazy. He wants to point out that he barely broke that barrier six months ago. “You’re thirty points off then.” 

“I can’t believe I fell on the quad salchow,” Victor moans. “It’s because I haven’t been practicing it as much.” 

“I wonder when you _have_ been practicing it,” Yuuri says except he knows exactly how and who is responsible for helping. Yuuko and Takeshi are enablers. It would make Yuuri mad but he doesn’t think he has the right since he’s the one who pleaded for extra keys and if they would sneak him into the rink at night. If anything he’s irritated that he didn’t predict Victor would do the same. 

“It’s a secret,” Victor says, pressing a finger to his lips. 

“I’m going to have a talk with Yuuko-chan,” Yuuri says and Victor squawks. 

They leave the kiss and cry only to enter into the maw of reporters. But Victor simply smiles for the cameras and begins to answer questions.

Yuuri is so very thankful that he’s not the one being interviewed. But he keeps close by so he can keep a watch on Victor, who will definitely seize the opportunity to say something terrible if left alone; even Yuuri can figure that much out. 

Then someone turns to him with a microphone and asks how he feels about becoming a coach. Or something like that; his mind kind of blanked when the microphone nearly smashed into his face. 

Yuuri blinks and dazedly thinks that he really should have expected this. The answer on the the tip of his tongue is ‘no comment’ because it’s become so familiar. But he looks at Victor who is waiting and expectant, because he wants to hear what Yuuri has to say, and Yuuri clears his throat. 

“We have a lot to work on but I’m very proud of his performance today,” Yuuri says then grabs Victor and leaves. He walks like he knows where he’s going but the extent of his thoughts is to get away from people with microphones. And to get Victor away from people with video cameras because he’s started to hiccup with sobs. 

“Good idea,” Victor says, wiping at his eyes. “Oh my god, I can’t stop crying. Yell at me for something. Change the subject. Talk about something depressing. Remind me I have homework due online tomorrow.”

“Uh, please stop crying,” Yuuri says, letting go of his arm. There are still people around but they either don’t notice or they’re politely ignoring them. “And I’m not going to yell at you. Did I say the wrong thing? I wasn’t going to say anything. Should I keep quiet next time?” 

“No! I loved it! You never answer questions but you told everyone that you’re proud of me and my makeup is a mess now,” Victor says and he’s not stopping. 

Yuuri finds a quiet hallway where Victor can compose himself. It takes half a roll of toilet paper that Yuuri has pried out of a bathroom stall before Victor stops producing tears. Victor insists he’s fine the whole time and Yuuri half believes him. That doesn’t stop him from looking like a mess instead of a top contender. 

He’s picture perfect again when the short programs end and ready for interviews. Yuuri does not say anything this time, standing off to the side with his lips clamped shut. 

Victor ends up in third after the short program. 

“I wanted to be first,” he says with a pout and a toss of his hair over dinner. He’s eaten all the vegetables from his salad first and dumped his croutons into Yuuri’s bowl. Yuuri doesn’t argue; he’s not a competitor anymore and he’s going to enjoy the dressing that Victor also passes to him.

“Takuma-kun got twelfth,” Yuuri says with a placid smile. He barely avoided being dead last and he wants to be more encouraging to his fellow compatriot but Sae-kun is far better at that sort of thing than he is. 

And Takuma-kun isn’t his student. He has to deal with Victor’s arrogance and pride; the second he knows well but the first is a total mystery to him. His score of 76.38 is something to be proud of but apparently that’s not enough for Victor.

“I won’t say anything to him. I’m not that mean,” Victor says. He looks at Yuuri in surprise. “Did you think I was going to?” 

“Not on purpose but on accident? Maybe,” Yuuri says with a shrug and Victor frowns as he thinks that over. He sips on his water with a too serious expression. “It’s not something you should be saying out loud regardless.” 

“Why? I wanted to place first. I’m the Junior Worlds Champion; there are lots of people who think I should have taken first place. I’ve disappointed them.” 

“Who is ‘them’?” Yuuri asks.

Victor blinks. 

“My fans? My country? The Federation?” Victor raises his fingers to start counting but Yuuri stops him before he can get into it. 

“Okay, okay, I understand. I really do. There’s a lot riding on your shoulders. So many people that you can’t possibly begin to imagine why they’re counting on you when they really have no proof that you’re all that great-” 

“Oh no, I’m definitely Russia’s future in figure skating,” Victor says without missing a beat. He’s got a light smile on his face, totally at ease, and this is probably what a champion in the making should sound like. “Yura, Georgi, and all of the other skaters are in for a surprise this year.” 

“And you’re looking forward to it,” Yuuri says, torn between shaking his head and laughing with him. He settles for something in between. “Then we have a lot to work on.” 

“Yeah, I need to land my quads perfectly and-” 

“Oh yeah, we have to talk about that,” Yuuri says. “Don’t do that again.” 

“What?” Victor says. 

“The whole surprise quad thing? Yeah, don’t do that.”

“But Yuuri-!” 

“I didn’t say don’t do quads,” Yuuri says. “But I’m your coach, right? We have to work together on this. If you want more quads in your programs, we can work on it, but I don’t want you just throwing them in like that. You’re messing up the rhythm and pacing of your program.” 

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that,” Victor says, furrowing his brow. “That’s a good point. I definitely needed more time for the quad sal there.” 

“You needed more everything,” Yuuri says. “I made it a triple for a reason.” 

“Can we do that?” Victor asks him, hopeful. “We have a whole day in between the short and long program. We can totally add in another quad to my free skate, right?” 

“You’re supposed to rest,” Yuuri says without malice. He and Yuri-kun were well known for reworking their programs to maximize points. But he definitely didn’t surprise Celestino with extra quads so he absolutely has room to talk. 

“What did you usually do on your rest days?” Victor asks, a little cheeky. 

“Tried to relax,” Yuuri says. It had never really worked. Yuuri clears his throat at the memory of the last two years and how he would relax then. It is definitely not appropriate for Victor to hear about nor would he want to know that Yuri-kun was intimately involved. “My coach would take away my phone so I didn’t look up any articles about how I had performed.” 

Victor nearly topples the dishes as his hand darts out to clasp his phone and gives Yuuri a terrified look. Yuuri chuckles a little and sets his phone down. Thinking about Yuri-kun doesn’t mean he’ll get a message back, if Yuri-kun even thinks about him anymore. Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if he were blocking out him by sheer force of will. He’s so proud of Victor but he can’t even share that with Yuri-kun. Yuuri flips his phone so he can’t see the screen. 

“I’m not taking your phone away, Victor,” Yuuri says gently. “I mean, technically, I would give Celestino my phone. I know what I’m like and you’re different. Though I would definitely advise you not to look yourself up during a competition.” 

Victor gives him a small smile and Yuuri sighs as Victor goes through and exit about a dozen tabs. 

“I promise I’ll try really hard not to google myself during a competition,” Victor says. 

That sentence is loaded with enough qualifiers that it’s vaguely dizzying. 

“Okay, I promise to try not to take your phone away,” Yuuri says. “Don’t give me a reason to.” 

“You would, oh my god. You’re kind of scary, Yuuri,” Victor says in an admiring tone. 

“People have told me that before,” Yuuri says, shaking his head. Chris tells him that all the time, that he sometimes frightens people away, though he won’t ever explain it. He insists that he can’t. 

Yuuri glances at his phone and then at Victor, wondering how they would interact. He’s been telling Chris about Victor’s antics but he’s said very little to Victor about Chris. And texts are never an excuse for the actual person. 

The next day Yuuri decides that he needs to send a fruit basket or something to Celestino. Navigating the responsibilities of a coach is simultaneously harder and more relaxing that Yuuri had ever imagined. It helps, of course, that Victor seems relatively at ease. But Yuuri has to practically drag him off the ice when his turn to practice is over and argue with him that he can’t find another rink in order to practice more. 

He’s pretty sure Victor is mutinously looking up nearby rinks on his phone. 

Celestino would appreciate wine more. Yuuri isn’t sure if wine baskets are a thing but he might have to make it happen. A singular bottle doesn’t encapsulate his gratitude. (Phichit agrees that multiple bottles will be more proper and more hilarious. Yuuri deletes the text from his phone so that he can deny it later.)

But the afternoon is easier since they meet up with Sae-kun and Takuma-kun. The two boys go off to explore the hotel, which Takuma-kun declares has an arcade and that he’s going to trounce Victor. The challenge is too tempting for Victor to refuse and he runs off before Yuuri can make a token attempt at being a responsible guardian. 

Sae-kun suggests grabbing a drink and Yuuri refuses politely; he’s going to spend at least an hour crafting a text that will never be responded to and then he’ll text Chris to ask him where he went wrong with this relationship. Knowing Chris, the conversation will veer into a ridiculous tangent and Yuuri will hopefully be in a better mood for lunch. It’s a very busy schedule he has for himself.

They end up at the same sandwich shop for lunch anyway where she’s meeting with a few of the other coaches. It’s about five more people than Yuuri was expecting to be social with today but he ends up speaking with Sae-kun more than the others. It’s more like they agreed to sit with one another to avoid sitting with strangers and Yuuri is okay with that.

They do end up getting a drink but Yuuri keeps it to a single cocktail, laughing off Sae-kun’s attempts to agree to sightseeing after the competition is over. If she asks Victor, he’s going to say yes, and Yuuri will end up getting dragged along anyhow, but he’ll let her figure that out on her own.

The boys return at a respectable hour and start regaling their coaches with stories that have nothing to do with games. Yuuri starts to worry around the time they mentioning running away from the housekeeping but Sae-kun laughs at their tales before sending Takuma-kun off to bed. 

The next day Takuma-kun’s free skate is much better than his short program though it’s still shaky, the lackluster performance from the day before affecting his confidence and movements. He doesn’t fall though he does touch down on a triple flip. 

Victor’s skate is much later since he’s third to last but he mostly seems bored at having to wait so long for his turn. When his name is finally called he bounces up and tears his guards off before he’s even close to the rink.

“I want to add in the extra quad like we talked about,” Victor says, hands on the boards, determination gleaming brighter than the lights above.

Yuuri closes his eyes for a moment. 

“I don’t think you should,” Yuuri says gently. “But I know you’re going to do it anyway.” 

Victor grins, unrepentant. 

“Push the triple axel to the second half and do the second quad toe loop with a double toe loop,” Yuuri says. “Can you do that?” 

“Definitely.” Victor is shining, too brightly confident for the fanciful lark he’s supposed to be embody on the ice in a few seconds. 

“I’ll work on it later and smooth it out but for now you should be able to remember that,” Yuuri says. “And Victor?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t fall,” Yuuri says. He’s an asshole for saying that but Victor is so ridiculously determined to add in a second quad. Victor’s grin only widens. 

For a moment, as Victor waits for the music, he looks calm and composed. It’s a damned lie. Sure enough, his first salchow turns into a quad salchow and Yuuri can’t resist an audible groan. He doesn't even have words. Yuuri can see why Yakov isn’t entirely upset that Victor ran off to another coach.

The extra rotation throws Victor off the melody and it takes him a few seconds to regain the beat. Yuuri is going to have to find a better way to point out to Victor that is ruining all of his hard work at matching tempos and rhythms for the sake of jumps. Apparently he wasn’t clear enough the first time. 

Yuuri watches as Victor skates, all silver glitter and gray mesh, elegant and superb. He’s getting better at moving his arms in tune with the music rather than just letting them hang. The movements aren’t as crisp as Yuuri thinks they should be but they’re improving. 

Victor stumbles on the quad toe loop combination, unsurprisingly; they haven’t practiced that transition enough and that’s on top of the surprise quad salchow. 

Victor glides backwards and turns for his ending pose, breathing heavily and exhausted enough that he’s disrupting the imagery. Two extra quad jumps will do that to a person; Yuuri had thought that one extra quad would have been enough to tire Victor out and adequately illustrate that point. He’s not so sure that even this third one will do the trick. 

“Surprised?” Victor says as he takes his guards from Yuuri. 

“Not the word I would use,” Yuuri says. He forces Victor’s water bottle into his hand and waits until he downs half of it to speak again. “You know most people start their seasons off slow and add in the harder jumps as they become more comfortable with their program, right?” 

“Nope,” Victor says. “You didn’t always do that.” 

Yuuri groans. He knew this day was coming. Victor has the courtesy to try to stifle his giggle even if he’s mostly unsuccessful. He appreciates the effort. 

They quiet down as Victor’s scores are called out. He’s in first place, though Yuuri notes that his PCS is a paltry 68.12. They have a lot of work to do and he’s not sure how he’s going to go about it.

“Yuuri! I did it!” Victor says as he throws himself at Yuuri for a hug. It’s becoming a habit to brace himself for the impact. 

“Good job,” Yuuri says, genuine smile on his face. He’s going to have to scold Victor again for this propensity to slip in quads because this is going to be a serious issue if it keeps up. But that can wait until later. Even watching with a critical eye, Yuuri found himself admiring Victor’s performance, and he deserves every cheer he’s receiving from the crowd. “You’re not going to cry again if I say I’m really proud of you, are you?”

“Not right now. But I’ll probably remember later and start,” Victor says cheerfully.

There are two more skaters but neither of them manage to top Victor. 

Victor beams as his position is finalized and Yuuri watches when he climbs the podium to accept his first senior gold medal. It’s different to watch his student accept the gold; but there's no wistfulness on his own part, no yearning for the gold himself, and Yuuri carefully catalogues that and puts it aside to poke at later. 

Right now it’s Victor’s time to shine and Yuuri doesn’t want to miss a moment of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing blog @ [scribblyorro](http://scribblyorro.tumblr.com). there are definitely deleted snippets and previews and maybe one day I'll finally get around to doing a writing meme instead of just collecting them all in my likes. also I'm going to take part in the [rare ships on ice](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Rare_Ships_on_Ice_2017); reveals for that take place July 23! thank you all and I hope you enjoyed ~


	9. Chapter 9

**Hasetsu, Japan**  
**September 2016**

“You’re too stiff. You’re a lark. You’re supposed to be graceful, like you’re flying,” Yuuri says. 

“I’m trying,” Victor says with a frown. He glares down at the ice for a moment, tempted to kick at it, but that won’t help. “I don’t get what you want. I’m being as graceful as possible.” 

Yuuri hums and bites his dry lips. Victor takes the chance to pull his hair out of its ponytail and shakes it before tying it back up. They’re towards the end of a frustrating session because Yuuri keeps asking for something that Victor apparently isn’t delivering. 

“What are you thinking about when you skate?” Yuuri asks him. 

“I am a lark,” Victor says. Obviously. 

“Okay. And what does that mean?” Yuuri asks. 

Victor opens his mouth then shuts it. 

“I’m a bird?” Victor offers and he doesn’t even blame Yuuri for sighing. “Well, what did you think about while choreographing it?” 

“I...thought about you and what you want,” Yuuri says, frowning a little. Victor blinks, not having expected an actual answer. “But that’s just the skeleton, the outline of the program. You need to find a way to connect with it and that comes from you.” 

“So what did you think about when you wrote it?” Victor asks, seriously this time. 

“You,” Yuuri says then he makes a thoughtful noise. “I thought about how much you like to skate and how you want everyone to see your skating. I don’t mean showing off but it’s your senior debut so of course you want to show everyone the best skating you possibly can.” 

Victor looks at the ice and then back at his hands, absently brushing them on his pants. Part of Victor is warmed by Yuuri’s notion of him before they even met and became friends like this. But he’s had this conversation before with Yakov, that he needs more emotion in his skating. Victor has never understood what he had been asking for. He dances on the ice because he loves it; the larger part of him feels that should be enough though he understands it’s not that simple anymore.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Victor admits. “I don’t know how to. And I don’t even know how I’d start. It’s all one and the same, right? That’s how I think about it. But I know it’s not just that, that I need more somehow.” 

“I guess it’s hard to explain,” Yuuri says. He gestures to the ice. “Let me try to show you? I’ll skate to your program and for the first half, I’ll focus on the technical aspects. Then the second half will be on the presentation. I think it’ll be easier to show you the difference.” 

Victor nods and goes to start the music. 

Yuuri wears a hard focused look as he pushes off the ice to start with a backwards three turn. Victor has to tear his eyes away from Yuuri’s face because he looks so stern and for someone known for getting into the music of his program, it’s almost unsettling.

Yuuri hesitates for a beat before quickly catching up to the music. It’s still a beautiful piece, every jump and turn executed with utter perfection. And it’s not at all like the Yuuri Katsuki skating he knows and loves. 

Victor can’t pinpoint anything though because Yuuri is hitting every note and beat; he wrote this program so he knows it inside and out, and it’s masterfully done. Even the triple lutz coming out of the step sequence is done perfectly, something that Victor has struggled with.

There’s a breath as Yuuri enters the second half and then he’s back. Victor inhales and doesn’t let go because this is the Yuuri Katsuki he has watched for so long. 

There’s not a noticeable downgrade in quality either but now Yuuri is marking the jumps rather than actually completing them. And that doesn’t change a thing. Victor could cry if he wasn’t focusing so hard on noticing what’s different between the two halves.

Somehow, Victor thinks that there’s something Yuuri wants, and he exhales quietly to himself as Yuuri marks the last triple with a waltz jump. 

“I don’t understand how to do it but I saw it,” Victor says the moment Yuuri is done. He doesn’t even let him get to the boards to grab his drink. Victor has to make sure that’ he’s still a human because Yuuri had switched so seamlessly and effortlessly, as if someone had done nothing more than hit a button. It’s silly but he latches onto Yuuri’s arm, as if to make sure that Yuuri is an actual flesh and blood person, because Victor wants some proof after that incredible display.

“Oh? That’s a step in the right direction,” Yuuri says, wiping at his forehead, dislodging Victor. He skates over to get his water bottle and Victor follows right on his heels. 

“What were you thinking about during the second half? It was so different! I could practically feel it myself,” Victor says. “You were looking for something, right? There’s something that you needed and you got it at the end. I wish I could have seen it with the jumps too. You could have broken your old record with that, I bet.”

Yuuri chuckles a little and ignores that last part.

“I thought of a bird, a little brown bird trying to find its way home, and it’s not an easy journey but they love flying. So it’s always worth it to fight against a storm or deal with other animals that want to eat it, because it’s going to find the perfect place to make its nest,” Yuuri says. He’s got a weird twist to his grin, something a little shy but mostly Victor can’t make sense of it. 

Victor looks back at the ice, Yuuri’s version still in his head, and he can see more of it in the way Yuuri had moved. He had understood something of that before Yuuri had told him though. There was longing and a fierce drive all in the same dance. 

“I don’t know if that helps though,” Yuuri says. “You have to figure out your own story to tell.” 

“Yeah, I can’t use yours,” Victor agrees. It would never ring true. Victor is going to break every record out there and make a name for himself. He’s not trying to find something that’s already there because he’s going to reach new heights that no one had thought possible. “But I don’t know anything about larks.” 

“You don’t have to pick right now. Think it over a bit,” Yuuri says. “Sometimes I wouldn’t have anything good until the right before a skate.” 

“Oh my god. Yakov always told me not to do that. You did it! See, I knew he was wrong!” 

“It was definitely better when I didn’t do it the night before,” Yuuri says with a laugh. “But it absolutely happened.” 

Victor still grins. He never realized what a pedestal he had placed Yuuri on but it’s being broken in all of the best ways possible. 

His admiration for Yuuri’s talent and skill has only grown though. Victor made the right choice coming to Yuuri for help; if anyone could make him understand the musicality behind figure skating it would be the living legend himself. He doesn’t truly understand yet but everyday he gets a step closer. 

“I want to try again,” Victor exclaims, full of fire. 

“We really need to be wrapping up,” Yuuri says. “We’ve been on the ice for more than an hour already.” 

“Please!” 

Yuuri sighs but it’s fond. 

“I’ll ask Nishigori who has the rink next, okay? Can you wait that long?” 

“Nope,” Victor says. He’s ready to spin and glide and move. 

“Fine, fine. Go. I’ll just call him to ask,” Yuuri says, amused. 

Victor cheers a thanks and then hurries to the middle of the rink to get into position. Yuuri presses the music to the sound system for Victor and he skates, trying to emulate something of how Yuuri had moved. He still doesn’t have his own story but he wants to skate like Yuuri did; he wants to move hearts and touch emotions like that. 

Yuuri wrangles them another half hour but then it’s Nishigori himself that comes to kick them out, a class full of novice skaters right behind him as visible proof that Victor is done. Makkachin is in the middle of the crowd, panting and wagging her tail as she waits for Victor while being cheerfully mobbed by little hands, which is the last straw.

“He did that on purpose,” Victor complains. There’s no way anyone could have said no to those adorable pudgy faces or Makkachin.

“He did,” Yuuri agrees gravely. The novice skaters love Makkachin and she loves them therefore they love Victor since he’s Makkachin’s human. Victor can’t disappoint them by taking away any of their ice time. “It’s fine though. The afternoon is for homework,” 

Victor gives a false groan and a mock glare at Makkachin, who is too busy trotting ahead of them with a bounce in her step. Yuuri smiles a little as they walk back to Akatsuki. 

“I’d rather be drilling,” Victor says. That’s not always true. But it does make Yuuri laugh. 

“That could be arranged? You’re still getting good grades, right?” 

“Yup. Nothing under a four,” Victor says. All of his course work is in Russian so Yuuri has to trust him to some degree (he gets updates from Victor’s professor though since he’s listed as his guardian). But Victor won’t fail him by doing something as asinine as forgoing his schoolwork. 

Makkachin greets them when they return to Yutopia. Victor laughs as she licks his face all over though he shuffles them to the side so that other customers can get in. She usually comes with them to Ice Castle and naps outside the building, though it’s not uncommon for her to stay at the onsen.

By the time Victor finishes rinsing off, Makkachin is sitting by Yuuri, her tail thumping against his leg as he scratches her belly and side. She’s the most lovable dog and the Katsuki family absolutely spoils her. He worries that they’ll fatten her up too much for runs but Yuuri assures him each time that they won’t do that. He likes having her as a running partner just as much as Victor does.

Sometimes Victor secretly hopes that Yuuri will get a dog too, because he looks like he would keep Makkachin in a heartbeat if for some unknown reason Victor ever had to leave her here. He thinks it would have to involve his death or an alien abduction, and then he’d tragically have to leave Makkachin to Yuuri, where at least they could have one another to mourn his parting. It’s a very elaborate thought that makes Victor want to cry and it’s hard to explain without sounding a little bit odd.

He returns to his essay which is not creative writing but a book report about _Doctor Zhivago_. It’s decidedly less engaging and a thousand times more confusing but of course the school would never pick something truly interesting. 

Yuuri interjects with questions about photo shoots and interview requests, though he gives no definitive answers. He insists that he doesn’t know the first thing about coaching but he’s been scheduling the same events as Yakov has, and it doesn’t feel any more taxing than before. Victor loves the photo shoots, especially the zanier ones, where he can wear outfits that he could never afford outside of the rink. Yakov had frowned at them all, especially upon seeing the finished projects, but Yuuri just seems vaguely unconcerned about them. 

“Finished,” Victor says with glee as he submits the literature essay. 

“Congrats,” Yuuri says, looking up from the magazine. It has Yuri Plisetsky on the cover. Yuuri has been reading it for the past week off and on; Victor keeps meaning to snatch to see what is so interesting about it that Yuuri hasn’t put it down but he keeps forgetting. “I wish I could help you more but I can’t read a word of Russian.” 

“It’s okay. It’s easy to study here. I think because it’s quieter than in St Petersburg.” The teacher online is very helpful too, acting as more of a tutor. Victor eyes the next assignment which is a series of math questions. He should probably get started on them now before the Grand Prix qualifiers take over. 

He’s opening the pages in his book when a text comes through.

“Oh!’ He exclaims without meaning to. Makkachin looks up at him and her tail starts wagging, smacking Yuuri. That catches Yuuri’s attention and he looks up from his magazine. 

“Takuma is inviting me to see a movie with his friends,” Victor says. “Do you mind if I go?” 

“Sure?” Yuuri says. “You don’t really have to ask permission, you know? I know I’m sort of your acting guardian and I definitely appreciate that you’re telling me where you’re going. But you can hang out with your friends without that look.” 

“What look?” Victor asks, touching his face. 

“Like I’m going to yell at you,” Yuuri says. 

Victor stares at him. He should be studying or training. That’s been his life. He doesn’t have time to do things like hang out with friends. That’s for people who aren’t going to be champions. Victor can practically hear the voices but there is no distinct identity. It’s all a cacophony of words and phrases from a blur of pitches.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Victor asks. 

“What? Why would it?” Yuuri asks. 

“I dunno.” Victor shrugs. 

“It’s good to have rinkmates,” Yuuri says. “I still miss training with Phichit. And you might not train with Takuma-kun but you train in the same rink.”

“Oh. Okay,” Victor says. “So it’s fine?” 

“Victor,” Yuuri says, a little exasperated. “It’s more than fine. Go have fun.”

Victor shoots up with a grin. He’s out the door ten minutes later calling out his thanks again though Yuuri just shakes his head at him. Takuma is waiting outside of the nearest convenience store. It’s a little strange to see him in his normal clothes; Victor has gotten used to seeing him in workout gear or his figure skating costumes. 

“I was worried you got lost,” Takuma says. 

Victor makes a face at Takuma. Hasetsu isn’t so big that Victor could get as completely turned around as he could in St Petersburg; he’s definitely been saved by his phone’s GPS more than once after letting Makkachin lead the way during their walks. But that’s part of the adventure of life and it wasn’t like there was anyone at home to scold him. As long as Yakov didn’t hear about it, he was in the clear. 

“They want to practice their English with you,” Takuma says as they walk towards the single movie theater. “I told them you would be a good test because of your accent.” 

“My accent is sexy,” Victor says, pretending to be affronted though he knows what Takuma means. He’s working on softening it because there are too many reporters and interviewers who demand he speak English without learning a single word of Russian. It’s ridiculous but that’s how it was. And it makes his blood boil and his smile strain when they ask him to repeat himself.

“You sound like a walrus,” Takuma says. 

“And you mumble too much,” Victor says. He can see the group of students up ahead, still in their uniforms, and they only point and stare for a moment before waving at them. “No one can hear you.” 

“Yeah? Well you-” 

“Takuma-kun! Introduce us,” one of the girls demands, eyeing Victor up and down. 

Victor tosses his hair over his shoulder and Takuma groans. He obeys and the girls all insist Victor add on the ‘-chan’, which Victor does in confusion and delight since Takuma doesn’t protest, only rolls his eyes at them all. The other two boys stare at Victor and seem undecided about his presence; Victor ignores them both.

“This is Victor,” Takuma says then he speaks in such rapid tones that Victor knows he’s showing off. “I told them they aren’t allowed to date you.” 

“Don’t be jealous,” Victor says and winks at the girl, Asafuki-chan, glaring at Takuma. 

“We’re not supposed to date at school,” Takuma says. 

“Liar! Ruriko-chan will cry to hear you say that,” Momoko-chan says, enunciating her words and staring at Victor.

“Ruriko-chan doesn’t count,” Takuma hisses and Victor grins, sensing a story here. 

“Why doesn’t Ruriko-chan count?” Victor asks. 

“She’s seven,” Takuma says. Victor thinks he’s lying but he lets him change the subject. “Which movie are we watching? Did we decide?”

Asafuki-chan starts explaining the story of _Aozora Yell_ to Victor, the other girls chiming in when she skips a part, so by the time it starts he’s not totally confused by the baseball and trumpets.

Victor ends up sitting in between Shigure-chan and Momoko-chan, and they take turns translating for him. He’s very thankful since he’d been planning on bothering Takuma to translate for him. It’s a little saddening though; he’d been looking forward to making a nuisance of himself.

“Are you crying?” Takuma asks him as the film ends.

“I’m not,” Victor says, sniffing. 

“Beautiful,” Shigure-chan says and Takuma shakes his head in disgust at her, grabbing Victor and telling him to ignore them. Victor thinks she was talking about the movie but he knows Takuma better than the girls so he lets himself be pulled away.

Afterwards they go to karaoke, which is an experience Victor will never forget; he wishes someone had warned him how hard Japanese teenagers go at karaoke. Asafuki-chan and one of the boys have a long time rivalry. This round ends with Asafuki-chan’s defeat and she whines into Victor’s shoulder about how the machine is wrong. 

Shigure-chan, Asafuki-chan, and Momoko-chan all insist on trading phone numbers as they wait in line for crepes outside of the karaoke club. Victor accepts even as he cheerfully tells them that he’s busy training and he probably won’t be able to hang out often. Takuma looks at him like he’s a moron but the other two boys seem relieved. 

Then they’re saying goodbye and heading off. Victor blinks a little and looks at his phone; it’s still early in the afternoon.

“Cram school,” Takuma explains. Victor raises his eyebrow for him to explain further. “Extra classes, yeah? I would be taking them too if it wasn’t for skating.”

“And classes on Saturday? That’s a lot,” Victor says. It’s not a totally foreign concept to him; there were a few junior skaters who had to take Saturday classes but he’s never had that schedule.

“It’s important,” Takuma says with a shrug. “Skating is more important for me though.” 

Victor won’t argue with that. He wipes his hands to get rid of the sticky sensation from where the custard dripped. 

“Should we go home then?” Victor asks. 

“Oh. You want to?” Takuma asks. He stares at the cart with a longing look. Victor completely shares the sentiment; this was an afternoon for breaking diets but they still refrained from snacking at the karaoke bar and they both got the smallest crepes with the least amount of fillings. It hadn’t compared to Shigure-chan’s custard chocolate cheesecake sundae crepe. 

“Not really,” Victor says. He starts walking aimlessly, mostly to get away from the rich smells of the food carts. 

Yuuri hasn’t suggested anything like a curfew yet but he has practice early in the morning. And Hasestu seems so safe, where everyone knows one another. That’s the danger in staying out though, since he sticks out as the Russian foreigner, and everyone knows he’s Yuuri’s student. They’ll tell Yuuri if he’s out at night, without a doubt. 

“We could go explore more. You train all the time, right? So you probably don’t know the town too well.” 

“I’ve been around,” Victor protests. He does spend most of his time at Ice Castle and Yutopia Akatsuki, but he’s been to Minako’s and Hinode too.

Takuma looks at him then gives a noise of disgust. 

“You want the girls to show you around, don’t you?” 

“Oh yeah, they offered,” Victor says. He’d honestly forgotten. Victor wraps his hand around his phone, idly thinking how nice it is to have more numbers in it than just his coach and rinkmates. He still talks to Georgi and Mila but it’s not the same as before.

“You’re hopeless,” Takuma says. 

“Maybe I promised Makkachin we’d explore Hasetsu together,” Victor says. 

“I believe that,” Takuma says. “Now please never say that to Momoko-chan. She’ll cry that you prefer your dog. All of the girls will.”

“I haven’t had time,” Victor protests. “And I think Makkachin knows this place better than I do. Everyone seems to recognize her!” 

“Huh? So she’s having dog adventures while you’re training, is what you’re saying?” 

“It’s true. I just realized it but it’s totally true,” Victor says. He looks around with a scrutinizing eye, wondering which places Makkachin prefers. Anywhere she can get food is a safe bet. She doesn’t try to sneak into the Yutopia kitchen anymore, not since Mrs. Katsuki sat down and scolded him about health inspectors and licensing. But the food carts seem like prime locations for a hungry and mischievous dog. 

“Let's go to Ice Castle,” Takuma suggest and Victor can’t help raise a delicate eyebrow at him. “What? We like ice skating. I didn’t say we had to train.” 

“I do like skating,” Victor says and with that it’s decided up until they arrive and Takeshi Nishigori gives them a blank stare, seconds away from asking them what the hell they’re doing there. There’s a beginners class filing out that keeps him from straight up swearing at them.

“Both?” Nishigori says as he crosses his arms and looks down at them. 

“Not for training, just for fun,” Victor says with a smile. 

Nishigori gives him a look.

“Promise.” 

“One hour,” Nishigori says with a sigh. He points his finger at Takuma and whatever he says has Takuma nodding. Victor looks to Takuma as soon as they are given permission. 

“He told us not to get hurt. He doesn’t want to deal with our coaches,” Takuma says. 

“That’s a good plan,” Victor says. He wonders how mad Yuuri would get. It wouldn’t be as bad as Yakov but maybe that would be worse. Yuuri would probably be disappointed in him and Victor decides to stop thinking about that because it’s too depressing. He doesn’t want to repeat that experience.

“Show me the quad toe loop again,” Takuma asks once they’ve warmed up and are on the ice. Victor looks away. “What? Oh, you’re worried about Nishigori-san. Don’t worry, we won’t get hurt.” 

“It’s not that,” Victor says. Takuma blinks at him and waits for an explanation. “Yuuri says I focus too much on quads. And he’s right. I keep shoving them in and it hurts my program component scores. But I got too excited. I wanted to win so badly.”

“You did win,” Takuma points out. Victor searches for any hint of jealousy but Takuma only looks confused. 

“But the senior skaters who usually win weren’t there,” Victor says. “I wouldn’t have been able to beat them with my score. I have to get better.”

“Sae-kun was asking Yuuri-san if we could work on our quad jumps together so you could help me again,” Takuma says slowly. His blades scratch the ice as he shifts, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty and quiet arena. “Is that why he didn’t agree right away like before?” 

“Probably,” Victor says, elongating the word as he thinks. He looks down and carves a small circle with his toepick before looking back at Takuma. “But I want to get better at skating. Yuuri moves like he creates music. I want to learn how he does that. And I fucked it up. I ignored it all for the jumps.” 

“Oh. You were stupid,” Takuma says after a moment and Victor bursts out laughing. Takuma grins at him, a little sly. “A student who doesn’t listen to his teacher isn't a new thing. And you didn’t do it to be hurtful. You want to win. And if Yuuri-san was doing quads then of course everyone else is going to be doing the same.” 

Victor smiles in thanks.

“Don’t tell Yuuri,” Victor says. 

“Don’t tell Sae-kun,” Takuma mimics him and Victor nearly throws his water bottle at him.

“Don’t fall and watch,” Victor says, nodding in permission when Takuma takes out his phone to record. 

Victor pushes off and lets himself get lost in skating, building up speed for the quad. The first GPF qualifier is coming up soon. He still has time to train and learn. And he won’t let himself make the same mistakes. 

**NHK Trophy**  
**Osaka, Japan**  
**October 2014**

The NHK Trophy is always a double edged sword for Yuuri because it’s soothing to be surrounded by his native Japanese, where he can read all the signs and he knows all the customs. But his country expects so much from him, and how could it not? They’ve poured so much into his skating so it’s only right that Yuuri repay that by winning. 

And he never has time to go back home even though he’s so close. He could jump onto a train and be home in about three hours; but the next qualifier is in two weeks for him and he doesn’t have that kind of time. 

Yuuri pulls the medal from his bag and reclines as much as possible in the stiff airport chair, loosely holding onto the thin red ribbon and letting it hang before him as he waits for his flight to come in. The gold glitters but it’s a faded, muted color in the artificial light. 

Could he be happy with this? 

He’s not sure that’s the right question. But the answer is probably the same because he gets up to ask the help desk with a flight to change. It’s a surprisingly easy matter and Yuuri glances around, still certain that a reporter is going to jump out and accuse him right then and there of retiring. But of course no one does such a thing.

Yuuri pulls out his phone and calls Celestino, dazedly thankful that he gets his voicemail instead of the man himself, and tells him that he’s fine. He’s just going home in the middle of the Grand Prix series and there is absolutely nothing wrong. 

Celestino had to leave as soon as the free skate was over to make it in time for another’s student’s competition. Yuuri is a veteran of the sport; he could handle getting himself back home. A little too literally this time around but the thought leaves his mind right after because there’s only relief pumping through his body at the new ticket hanging between his fingertips.

It’s probably a conversation he should have face to face with Celestino but Yuuri thinks this is acceptable for now. Then he sets his phone on airplane mode so he can’t receive any messages. 

He should call someone at home to give them a heads up but instead he just boards the plane, then the train, and then the last taxi. It’s not real until he sees Yutopia Akatsuki’s sign anyway and Yuuri is struck with what he’s done. He pushes the realization down and picks his bags up. 

It’s his mother’s voice that calls out a customary greeting and his voice sticks in his throat. He watches as recognition and confusion light up her eyes. 

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri swallows in lieu of saying anything. Then she’s in front of him and he was only here a few months ago but she seems so much smaller. Yuuri tries to speak again.

“Is it okay…?” Yuuri asks, unable to finish his sentence because he can already hear the dismissal. She’s going to tell him to go back to Detroit, to finish the season out, and he can’t do it, he can’t, can’t-

“Welcome home,” Hiroko says with a soft smile. She gives a little surprised exhale when Yuuri envelops her in a hug but returns the tight embrace, stroking his hair like she used to when he was a child. 

Yuuri mumbles his thanks but even he can’t hear them from where he’s muttering into her shoulder, desperately trying to keep himself from breaking further. 

“Do you want to eat? Rest? You just finished up at a competition so you must be tired,” Hiroko says, pulling away when she feels Yuuri start to tense up again. “Where is your father so you can greet him? Ah, I wish you had told us, we had a viewing party for you here and everyone would have loved to see you. We would have waited but that’s okay.” 

Hiroko talks rather quickly as Yuuri peels his coat and shoes off. She’s probably trying to distract him but there’s a soft hum in Yuuri’s head, the rest of the world happily removed, because he’s home. 

“Probably rest,” Yuuri agrees. “It’s been a long day.” 

“Your bed isn’t made at all. Oh no. Eat first so I can-” 

“It’s fine,” Yuuri says, because it is. As long as he can be here then it’s all okay. “I’ll do it myself. You don’t have to worry about it.” 

Hiroko gives him a searching look then shakes her head. 

“You’re going to sleep on that bed just as it is, dust and all.” Yuuri doesn’t bother to lie to her. He just gives her a smile and she sighs. Then she waves him off, like she used to shoo him away whenever he’d try to sneak into the kitchen for a snack. “Go have your nap. You won gold so katsudon for you tonight! Is that alright?” 

“That’d be great,” he says quietly, smiling a little. He thinks it’s forced and uneven but Hiroko looks relieved. 

He passes out the moment he hits the bed, uncaring that his room smells musty and barren; his bed is familiar and he can hear the sounds of the ryokan bustling rather than the background noise of American cars zooming about. 

His internal clock is messed up but he’s used to that. Yuuri yawns and after a quick round of stretches, goes downstairs. It’s nighttime, drinks out in full effect, but his mother is still awake though she looks seconds away from nodding off. 

“There you are,” she says, smiling at him. She stands up and fights back the urge to rub at her eyes, blinking rapidly instead to wake herself up. “I was worried you would sleep all night like that.” 

“Too hungry,” Yuuri says with a joking tone. “I would have eaten the pillow.” 

He sits down at a table near the back where it’s the most quiet. No one is noisy or rowdy but they’re more awake than Yuuri is. Hiroko brings him his katsudon and sits down with him. Yuuri says his thanks slowly because he normally has to wait until the off season to eat his katsudon. But he won gold and so he polishes his unease away.

Hiroko waits until Yuuri has eaten the pork cutlets and watches him slow down to pick up the biggest pieces of egg. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Hiroko says and Yuuri wishes it were that simple. 

“That’s not true,” Yuuri says and Hiroko sighs a little, as if by saying it she could have made it so. “It’s not...I wanted to come home. I needed to be home.”

“Is everything okay? Your coach is treating you right?” Hiroko says, not trying to probe but simply understand. His family has always been supportive but they have come to realize that they can’t always understand the twists and turns that Yuuri’s mind can contort itself into. 

“Everything is fine,” Yuuri says slowly. He finishes chewing his bite and looks up at his mom. “It’s good. But I don’t think I can...be that person anymore.” 

That clearly doesn’t make sense to Hiroko but she nods, accepting the answer for now. 

“Mari is looking to hire a new worker,” Hiroko suggests. 

“I can go tomorrow,” Yuuri says. He’s fairly awake right now but he’s had a long day. It might not be hard to go back to sleep. 

“Change your sheets before you go to sleep,” Hiroko says, patting his hand. “Good night, Yuuri.” 

“Good night,” Yuuri says. “Thank you for the katsudon. It was amazing.” 

Hiroko scrunches her nose, pleased at his thanks, like she always is when she gets to feed him katsudon after the long months away. 

The next morning Mari is waiting for him at Hinode. She isn’t thrilled to see him; he thinks that’s why she puts him to work so hard, partly as a punishment and also to keep his mind from overthinking. 

But for once Yuuri’s mind is relatively clear. 

And as pissed off as Mari is, she doesn’t press him for details, nor does she let her displeasure linger for long. All too soon she is back to poking at him about when he’s going to get into a relationship and playfully giving him a hard time about not bringing back souvenirs from this last competition.

The next day he comes face to face with Minako-sensei.

Yuuri is at Akatsuki in the office room sorting through the cabinet where they keep paperwork to find an bulk order form from last month that seems to have disappeared. He hears Minako-sensei before he sees her and a chill runs down his spine even as he straightens up to fix his posture from where he’s kneeling over boxes.

“Fuck,” Minako-sensei says. She stares at him with wide eyes and rubs at them before swearing again in the thickest Kyushu accent Yuuri has ever heard from her. “I didn’t want to believe Hiroko but you’re actually fucking here.” 

“Good to see you too, Minako-sensei?” Yuuri says, a little worried for her. He doesn’t really know what to do other than to apologize but he senses that nothing short of a declaration returning to skating will save him. 

“Why are you here,” Mianko says. 

“Do you want a drink?” Yuuri tries. 

“Katsuki Yuuri, answer my question,” Minako-sensei says. 

“Because this is my home, Minako-sensei,” he says, almost snapping. “Am I not allowed to be home anymore?” 

Minako-sensei almost rises but then she deflates instead. She leans against the doorway and rests her head against the wall.

“Of course you’re allowed to be here. But you know that’s not what I mean. Why are you here, in Hasetsu, in the middle of the Grand Prix series?” Minako-sensei says. Yuuri looks away. He doesn’t get to hear her be soft often. Minako-sensei was a strict teacher who demanded everything he could give and then pushed him to give that extra effort because she believed he could do it. And he did; for seven years as a senior skater and countless years before as a novice and junior, ever since he donned his first pair of skates and decided that this was going to be his future. “And why the fuck is your phone off?” 

“It’s on silent,” Yuuri says.

Minako-sensei sighs at him. He deserves that one. 

“That explains why you didn’t answer any of my calls or texts.” Minako-sensei peers at him. “Did you even tell your coach?” 

“Of course I did,” Yuuri says, a little offended even though he really didn’t go about the best way of telling Celestino. He’s going to call him again so he can explain himself better. Soon.

“Your mother is worried,” Minako-sensei says. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, a little stonily. He knows he’s stressing everyone out and he hates that he’s worrying them. But Minako-sensei doesn’t need to play that card. “I’m in the middle of the something though so-” 

“Don’t you dare try to kick me out,” Minako-sensei says. 

“-you’ll have to excuse me, Minako-sensei,” Yuuri says, ignoring her interruption. 

Minako-sensei purses her lips. But Yuuri doesn’t acknowledge her. He knows he’s going about his retirement all wrong but he’s done. And it’s been such a relief to be home. He can’t explain how much easier it’s been to breathe and how for the first time in weeks he doesn’t feel like the world is about to collapse around him.

“You can’t hide in Hasetsu,” Minako-sensei says. 

“I’m not hiding,” Yuuri says. 

“Then you can’t use ‘home’ to run away.” 

“I’m not running away either. I’m retiring.” He still doesn’t look up at her. 

Minako-sensei sighs and mutters something about stubborn men before leaving. Yuuri rubs at his eyes then continues his search. Minako-sensei is also worried about him and he appreciates it but this is his career. And he gets to decide when he wants to end it. There are other people who aren’t so lucky and have the choice made for them. (Yuuri would never wish for an injury but he’s definitely thought about what it would be like the have the choice made for him. He doesn’t entirely hate the idea which is how he knows how bad it’s gotten.)

But Minako-sensei brought up Celestino and Yuuri needs to call him back sooner rather than later. It would be easier to do an interview about this rather than talk to Celestino but Yuuri can’t avoid him forever. He already feels like a dick for his phone call but he didn’t want Celestino to think that he had been kidnapped or had gotten into some sort of accident. 

Detroit is thirteen hours behind Hasetsu so Yuuri waits until he can be sure that Celestino is awake but before he leaves to coach for the day. He deletes the voicemails without listening to them and then hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. This is something he has to do.

“Yuuri,” Celestino sounds more relieved than anything else and it makes the guilt in Yuuri’s gut churn and twist. “What happened? Did something happen with the plane tickets? You are safe now?” 

“Everything is fine,” Yuuri says. He swallows and speaks as clearly as possible. “I’ve decided to retire. I’m done.” 

The silence that hangs is more confused than anything else. 

“What do you mean?” Celestino asks, soft and quiet, as if speaking any louder would break something. 

“I’m done competing. I’m at home in Hasetsu. And I don’t want to go back. I’m not going to Skate America.” 

“Yuuri, I know-” 

“No. I can’t, Celestino. I’m sorry. But I can’t do it anymore,” Yuuri says, gripping his phone, vaguely hoping that it doesn’t break. That would be awkward to explain to Celestino and this conversation is already painful enough.

Celestino doesn’t say anything right away. Yuuri waits, keeping his breathing steady, wishing he had the words to explain. This probably seems like it has come out of nowhere for Celestino and Yuuri feels terrible for it. But he’s done. 

“Okay, Yuuri,” Celestino says. “I’m glad you called. I was worried. You’re safe and at home, that’s the important part. You’re with your family, yes?” 

“Yeah,” Yuuri says. Some of his tension is leaving him. Celestino is a far better coach than Yuuri has deserved. 

“That’s good. Let’s talk tomorrow later. I will call you at my lunch hour. We can talk longer then.”

“That’s, yes, let’s do that,” Yuuri says. “I’m sorry, Coach.” 

He hangs up and shoves his phone away. 

It’s easier to call later on though that doesn’t make the conversation itself go any more smoothly. Celestino clearly thinks he’s making a mistake but he also knows how stubborn Yuuri can be and he senses there’s a wall even through the phone. 

A family emergency neatly explains Yuuri’s absence from the GPF lineup and presence in Hasetsu without giving away any details. It burns at Yuuri a little to lie like this when they could simply say the truth; he’s retiring and he’s done. 

Because the longer he stays in Hasetsu the more he realizes how comfortable he is here. Even Detroit, where he has lived for five years, doesn’t compare to the warmth of the onsen and the familiarity of Ice Castle. 

He’s learning the names of the other workers of Akatsuki and he’s getting to know Mari’s husband better. Yasuhiro-kun is an avid football fan so he gets along with Toshiya. It’s not as entertaining as figure skating but it’s nice to be with his family as they sit down to watch the games. 

“Skate America is today,” Minako-sensei says a week later. She’s been dropping by more often in the evening after her last lessons. Hiroko usually cuts her off before she can get to a second bottle but she isn’t here tonight, over at Hinode to help Mari design a new main dish. Yuuri figures that Minako-sensei should know her own limits.

“Hm,” Yuuri says, unbothered even as Minako-sensei fumes. Minako-sensei was voted down when she tried to put the competition on the television, all the more when Yuuri agreed with the guests that watching _Hanasaki Mai Speaks Out_ was better. She’s mutters to herself about how stupid the drama is but no one pays attention to her. “I’m sorry?” 

“You’re not upset at all,” she says. 

“I’m not,” Yuuri agrees. 

“Are you even going to watch it?” Minako-sensei asks. 

“Probably not. I wasn’t planning on it,” Yuuri says. If he were still aiming to get into the Grand Prix Final he would but that’s out of the question now. He has no drive to watch it, no desire; the other skaters can fight over the points and medals. 

“You could do so much more,” Minako-sensei says, half a wail exploding from her as if she could no longer contain herself. “Are you really okay with ending your career like this?” 

“I don’t know but I think I could,” Yuuri says slowly. 

He smiles a little at Minako-sensei’s groan of despair before she chugs her glass and forgoes filling it in favor of drinking straight from the bottle. But he’s being honest with her. Quitting doesn’t seem as hateful as it did before. 

Yuuri finishes his text to Chris, wishing him good luck in his qualifier then switches to instagram to see what Phichit is up to. Phichit refuses to pack up his stuff in Detroit and send it to him, holding out hope for Yuuri’s return even though Celestino and Yuuri have told him the truth. 

He’ll have to catch their performances online later. Or he could even go and watch as a spectator. Yuuri wonders at how that will feel like but he’ll have plenty of time to figure it out now that he’s retired.

**Finlandia Trophy**  
**Espoo, Finland**  
**October 2016**

Yuri scowls when he sees the text from Katsuki roll in. It’s a pointless message about how he got his skates newly sharpened and an update about some cats a novice skater at his rink found. He’s been ignoring these texts for months but that doesn’t stop Katsuki. 

Yuri also reads and saves them all but Katsuki can’t know that since he turned off the read receipts.

“Put that away,” Yakov absently says as they make their way towards their first morning practice. He knows full well that Yuri won’t put his phone down and it’s really more of a reminder for Yuri to focus. 

Yuri pockets his phone. He’s not going to reply to any message from Yuuri Katsuki no matter how much he wants to yell at him that you don’t talk about cats without sending pictures. That fucking idiot hasn’t learning anything from following Yuri’s twitter and it’s another insult to add to the festering pile. 

It’s a shit show of a practice session; no one lands anything higher than a double cleanly, Yuri included, and it would piss him off more but he stayed upright for everything. Seung-Gil from Korea ate ice bad enough that the on site medic is doing the whole grim look thing as he patches him up. 

Yakov doesn’t seem to notice and barks at Yuri to use his edges properly, insinuating that he could do the routine better. Yuri skates off to the other side to keep from laughing in Yakov’s face; there’s some things even he won’t dare. 

“I’m going to grab lunch after this,” Yuri says as he finishes cooling down rinkside.

Yakov grunts and checks the time on his watch. They have an interview later on today and Yakov has already scolded him three times to behave himself during it.

“Fine. We’ll meet in the lobby at one. If you’re late-” 

“I’m doing laps, yeah, yeah,” Yuri says, waving him off. “Don’t have a heart attack, old man.” 

Yakov’s face turns red but Yuri walks away, thinking it’s nice to have longer legs than him since he can make a quick escape without needing to run. 

Yuri grabs the chicken salad combo that seems to be omnipresent at every hotel but it seems to be the most solid choice. Everything else seems to be battered in milk and calories. He texts a picture of it to Georgi and Mila since it’s not worthy enough of an actual post but he needs to complain to someone. Neither of them are at Finlandia this year; Yakov has them off cross training with ballet for Georgi and cycling for Mila. 

Georgi responds back and they’ve segwayed into an intense discussion of who would better survive in space between the wolf and the hare from the children’s show. Yuri tosses his trash and is about to leave when he nearly crashes into someone.

“Hello, Plisetsky,” Christophe Giacometti says. He has the same chicken salad combo that Yuri had eaten. It’s probably what all of the athletes here are getting. There’s not a particularly good spread of meals for competing athletes. 

Yuri narrows his eyes. He’s never understood how Katsuki likes spending time with this pervert. 

“Hi,” he says shortly, hoping that’s enough. 

But then Giacometti plants himself in front of Yuri’s path. 

“Let’s eat lunch?” He suggests and Yuri doesn’t bother to hide his grimace. 

“Just finished,” Yuri says and makes to go around him. But Giacometti gets in his way again. “I said, I already fucking ate.”

“I wanted to ask how you’re treating my good friend, Yuuri Katsuki,” Giacometti says. 

That stops Yuri. He glares at Giacometti, almost on eye level with him, not that it disturbs the placid smile on his face any. 

“What, has he been talking about me or something?” Yuri asks, torn between interest and certain that Giacometti won’t give him the information he’s looking for.

“He doesn’t need to say anything. I’m his best friend,” Christophe says, pretending to inspect his fingernails while still somehow holding his food and drink.

“No, you’re not,” Yuri says. 

“Then who is?” Christophe asks in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Yuri doesn’t have an answer to that because he’s not even sure he’s friends with Katsuki right now. You don’t get to spit out at someone to not talk to you and then say you’re still dating. He’s stupid but even he’s pretty sure that’s an automatic break up line. 

“Who cares?” Yuri says. This time he makes it past Giacometti.

“I look forward to seeing you skate,” Christophe says. 

“Get ready to lose,” Yuri says without looking back but stops when Christophe laughs softly. He knows he’s going to regret turning around but he can’t help it. “What?” 

“Don’t assume you’ll be the one to win since Yuuri is gone,” Christophe says and normally that wouldn’t bother him. But there’s a look in Christophe’s eyes and he knows it because he’s seen it reflected in the mirror. He’s not the only one tired of losing. 

“I’m not assuming shit. I know I’ll win,” Yuri says. It’s a good ending line. 

“Yuuri,” Chris calls out and Yuri freezes because he knows Chris isn’t calling out to him.

Katsuki has this uncanny ability to blend into any crowd no matter where in the world he is. It makes it seem like he pops up out of nowhere even when Yuri is expecting to see him at a competition.

Was.

“Oh,” Katsuki says as he catches sight of him. “Yuri-kun.” 

He’s surprised but not shocked, which makes sense if he took note of who was competing. Yuri pushes the thought away that Katsuki was looking for him. 

“What are you doing here?” Yuri says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I promised Chris I would come watch him,” Katsuki says. 

Chris nods. 

“I figured he was going to hole himself up after retirement so I made him promise to come to at least one of my skates. I guess I shouldn’t have worried about that.” 

“No, it was a good plan. This year hasn’t exactly gone as I’ve intended. And I probably would have done that,” he says with a little chuckle, scratching at his neck and blushing ever so slightly. 

It’s absolutely ridiculous but that’s his; people like Chris shouldn’t get to see Katsuki like this. Definitely not in the middle of a hotel restaurant that serves mediocre chicken.

Yuri doesn’t get to think like that though and he swallows it down. 

“Have fun watching him win silver, I guess,” Yuri says as casually as possible. 

“We should talk,” Katsuki says. Giacometti raises an eyebrow at them but doesn’t ask for more information. He’s very solidly standing by Katsuki though, as if he needs protecting. 

“Don’t want to,” Yuri says, intending give an unconcerned shrug before departing. He misses the moment to leave because Katsuki steps forward to get into his space. 

“I do,” Katsuki says. It doesn’t even feel like Yuri is looking down at him, he says it so absolute and assured. “I think we need to.” 

“Whatever,” Yuri says. 

“Come to my room for a bit, Yuuri,” Giacometti says, his tone low and sultry. “I’ll keep you occupied.” 

Yuri glares at him; he knows which of them he’s referring to but he still doesn’t like how it sounds. And he definitely doesn’t like how Giacometti slings his arm around Katsuki’s waist and nuzzles up against him. The kick is how Katsuki lets it happen for a moment before he pulls away but he’s not even remotely irritated at Giacometti. 

But Yuri doesn’t get to say anything. He has no claim over Katsuki. 

Yuri doesn’t even know what they are now. 

“I promised Chris I’d eat lunch with him. But after-”

“Fine. Whatever,” Yuri repeats, and turns on his heel, leaving without saying another word. His mind keeps jumping from longing to hear from Katsuki and never wanting to see his face again. And he can’t take the two conflicting feelings because he knows which one will win out in the end. And goddamn he hates himself for it. 

Yuri goes back to his room to shower and dress for the pre-competition interviews. He’s got the tv on, flicking through channels so he can find something that he can zone out to when Katsuki texts asking what room he’s in. Yuri stares at the message for about five minutes, asking himself if he should answer. 

Yuri berates himself for being weak as he texts Katsuki back. He flicks through his email, instagram, and twitter, never staying on any site for more than a few seconds. He’s too busy looking up at the door, waiting for the knock. When it comes he startles but moves slowly, not wanting to see too eager. Katsuki can fucking wait. 

He opens the door but slides out before Katsuki can step in. Katsuki gives him a confused look.

He looks the same as before but that’s not a surprise. It’s only been a few months, weeks really, since he stopped competing but he was still performing in ice shows just a few weeks ago. He’s dressed very casual, not a competitor or coach, just a fan of figure skating coming to watch an event. 

“So. Talk,” Yuri says, keeping his feet crossed in front of the door. Katsuki doesn’t get to hide behind anything. 

He only barely glances at the door, the smallest flicker before he locks gazes with Yuri. 

“I miss you,” he says and Yuri has to fight the sharp breath that almost escapes him. “I should have stopped you from going. I never should have let you leave.” 

“Why are you saying that?” Yuri asks. He wants to ask why he’s saying it now, why he hadn’t said that back then, but he can’t bring himself to do that. 

“Because.” Katsuki swallows. “We don’t even talk now. I thought...we were going to be something, and then we weren’t anything, and I didn’t...I don’t like that.” 

Yuri wets his lips. 

“You stabbed me in the back,” he says. 

“I didn’t realize. I’m coaching your competitor, right? I didn’t think about it like that. But I can see how it would upset you,” Katsuki says and he’s so far off the mark that Yuri almost laughs. 

“No. I don’t give a fuck about that. You left me. I told you this,” Yuri murmurs. He’s ripped open the wound again for Katsuki. And he doesn’t think he’ll survive a third time.

“I...didn’t leave. Not on purpose. It wasn’t about leavening you. I had to quit,” Katsuki says. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, leaning his head against the wall. “You know that, right? That if I could stay in figure skating with you forever, I would?” 

He didn’t know that. Yuri closes his eyes for a moment. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Now I have to believe you’re done. I just have to accept it,” Yuri says. He huffs and kicks at the carpet. “It fucking sucks. If you hadn’t turned coach, I could hope you would come back later in the year, that you’d show up at Worlds or something. But there’s no way that’s going to happen now. You’re not going to fuck up Victor’s career so you can train; you’re not like that.” 

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki says again and this time it soothes him a little. 

Yuri uncrosses his legs but doesn’t move to open the door. 

“How is coaching?” Yuri asks, hoping Katsuki doesn’t say anything about how his voice catches on the last word. 

Katsuki blinks at him. 

“You really want to know?” 

“Yeah sure?” Yuri says with a shrug. He doesn’t want to hear much about Victor but he’s been wondering how Katsuki has been dealing with it. 

“It’s not really...I helped Phichit a lot back in Detroit and sometimes it’s not that different,” Katsuki says with a thoughtful note in his voice. 

“But?” Yuri prompts.

“Victor…” Katsuki looks up at him and starts again. “Victor probably wasn’t the best skater to start with. He’s very...uh...determined.” 

“He’s a pain in the ass,” Yuri translates and can’t help his laugh when Katsuki gives a helpless shrug, unable to agree or disagree. “Serves you right.”

“I listened to my coach,” Katsuki protests lightly. 

“More than I listen to Yakov.” Yuri gives him that. Katsuki actually does seem like he’s enjoying this whole coaching thing. Yuri looks down and away. “So it’s good?” 

“Mm, I like it,” Katsuki says. His tone is so soft that Yuri has to look back at him. Katsuki is smiling, and there’s something very peaceful and whole about it. Yuri can’t explain it but it’s easy to see that coaching is something that Katsuki actively enjoys. “It’s amazing to watch him learn and grow. In a way, being able to help him perform the way he wants to is just as good as doing it myself.”

“Oh. That’s cool,” Yuri says, unsure of what to actually say. He would still prefer Katsuki back on the ice. But he can’t bring himself to even obliquely mention it. “If Victor gives you a hard time, tell me, so I can kick his ass.” 

Katsuki chuckles. 

“I’m serious.” 

“I know you are,” Katsuki says. 

They fall silent, mostly comfortable instead of awkward. Yuri stretches his leg out and gently kicks Katsuki’s thigh. It’s more of a tap which is why Katsuki doesn’t react much to it.

“I know you didn’t come for me but I like that you’ll be in the audience to watch me win,” Yuri says.

“Chris could beat you,” Katsuki teases, reaching down to grab his foot to keep Yuri from kicking at him more. 

Yuri scoffs but stops when he realizes that Katsuki is still holding onto his ankle. He swallows and raises an eyebrow at him. Katsuki seems to suddenly realize what he’s doing and he lets go of Yuri’s leg like he’s been burned. 

“I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” Yuri murmurs. He had the promise before of the GPF and Worlds, though that had never been enough, and that had never been guaranteed either. 

“We can talk online,” Katsuki suggests, the weight of the knowledge that it isn’t the same heavy in his words. “Ah, but we’ll have to work that out, since there’s a six hour time difference.” 

Yuri wants to scowl but he nods instead. If only Katsuki had come to St Petersburg to train Victor instead. It’s a stray thought that had never occurred to him before but he wishes it had happened that way instead. Maybe he could have suggested it back then. 

“Oh. I’ll see you at Nationals,” Yuri says, pushing away the pointless thoughts of what he could have done different. Victor will definitely compete there. Yuri grins a little. “I can crush your skater in front of you.” 

Katsuki smirks at him. 

“That’s three months away,” Katsuki says. “And I think Victor will surprise you at the GPF before that.” 

“That’s your goal,” Yuri says, a little amused. “Well, even if he qualifies, he won’t win there. The GPF is mine.”

“We’ll see,” Katsuki says. He blinks then and gestures to Yuri’s phone. “I think you’re getting a call.” 

Yuri doesn’t need to look at the time to know that Yakov is yelling at him for being late. He shrugs and ignores it.

“I’m probably keeping you from something,” Katsuki says. “I’m sorry. I should go and-” 

“It’s fine,” Yuri says. “It’s nothing important.” 

“Then answer it,” Katsuki says, his tone a little too calm, as if well aware of who Yuri is ignoring. 

Yuri scowls but slides his phone out of his pocket. He can see the missed texts already and he doesn’t exactly regret silencing his phone so much as he wishes he had left it in his room so that Katsuki wouldn’t have noticed and called him out on it.

Katsuki bites back a smile as soon as Yakov answers, shouting at him for not taking his career seriously and for dishonoring the whole of Russian Figure Skating. It’s a small mercy that he’s screaming in Russian so that Katsuki can’t understand the words.But he doesn’t think it would take much for Katsuki to be able to guess. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way,” Yuri shouts back and hangs up. He glares at Katsuki, who isn’t hiding his amused look anymore. “Happy now?” 

“I completely sympathize with Yakov,” Katsuki says. 

“He’s fine,” Yuri says dismissively. Yakov yells because that’s the only way he knows how to communicate. 

Yuri gets up off the wall and tries to think of a way to say goodbye. He probably won’t see him again until December and his chest already aches at the thought. But this time he’s leaving with the knowledge that they’ll talk again soon. 

“When are you heading back?” Yuri asks, even as his phone lights up again. 

“Right after the men’s free skate,” Katsuki says apologetically. “I’m not staying for the medal ceremony or the exhibition skate. I was only going to come for the short program but Minami-kun invited Victor for a week of training in Fukuoka and that’s why I could manage to stay longer. But we’ve timed it so that we’re both back in Hasetsu on the same day to resume training.” 

“Have dinner with me on the rest day,” Yuri says. 

“Oh, Chris and I were going to-” Katsuki starts and he’s not outright rejecting Yuri but Yuri doesn’t let him finish talking. He bends down and shoves his face right up to Katsuki’s so that he can’t avoid him. 

“Are you really going to pick that pervert over me?” Yuri asks softly, hoping he sounds as dangerous as he feels. 

“You interrupted me,” Katsuki says, his tone far too calm even though his eyes are wide. And Yuri can see every twitch his face makes this close up. “Chris will understand. He’s my friend.” 

“And what am I?” Yuri asks. 

Katsuki glances away and looks down, biting his lip for a moment. 

“I hope we’re friends, at least,” Katsuki murmurs. He looks up at him. “We are, right?”

“Not good enough,” Yuri whispers because it’s not. He wants more than that. 

Katsuki’s lips twitch in a smile but Yuri doesn’t get to see the whole of it because it’s swallowed up in a kiss. And it’s not what Yuri is used to, their hungry and starved touches, but something a little more hesitant on both of their parts. They’re navigating something new together.

Katsuki’s hands slide up to cup Yuri’s face, holding him steady, and Yuri wants to melt into him. He wraps his arms around Katsuki and holds on. He’s missed this, missed Yuuri, but he was too prideful to make himself understood. And he paid the price. 

“We should talk more first,” Katsuki says, pulling back a little though he doesn’t step out of Yuri’s embrace. It’s the ragged way he says it and the way his hands are still holding Yuri’s face that keeps Yuri from collapsing.

“Yeah,” Yuri says. He swallows something like his ego and presses his forehead to Katsuki’s, drinking in the sight and feeling of him while he’s within reach. “One more? Please.” 

Katsuki hesitates then nods, and as gentle as they were the first time, it’s even more so this time. It’s an agreement that they won’t be intimate with their bodies this time as much as they would both like to be. Sex isn’t what they need right now though, much as it pains Yuri to admit it. 

“I’ll be watching you,” Katsuki says. 

“You’d better,” Yuri says. “I’m going to fucking win everything this year.” 

Katsuki laughs a little but it’s so light and joyful that Yuri doesn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m looking for an artist to commission for scenes from this fic. My tumblr is @scribblyorro; message me and let's talk.
> 
> I'll be getting the deleted scenes up later (hopefully this week). I figured you guys would want the chapter more ^^
> 
> Comments are appreciated! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise.

**Skate Canada International**

**Mississauga, Ontario**

**October 2016**

Takuma sends him an image of everyone gathered at Asafuki-chan’s house, situated around the television. It’s half a study session and half a viewing session for Victor. They’ve also got a table full of mathematical notes in Takuma’s handwriting. When Victor asks, Takuma tell him that he was explaining some of the finer points of scoring and jumps. 

Sure enough, Momoko-chan and Ikuru-kun send a few questions as well, and Victor’s heart warms to see them try to understand. 

Victor presses his phone to his heart and rolls around his bed a little, enough that it wakes Yuuri up. He groans from the second bed and pops up to give him a questioning look. 

“Go to sleep,” Yuuri mumbles.

“Okay,” Victor says, smothering a laugh when Yuuri drops face first into his pillow, dead to the world. 

Victor is wide awake but he settles down so that he doesn’t wake Yuuri up again. Instead he texts with them for a while before Takuma realizes the time difference and enlists everyone to mob him with demands to go back to bed. 

Victor’s buzzing with too much anticipation to just roll over and sleep though. Lombardia hadn’t been child’s play but he had won in the end. This time though, there are seniors that he has watched with admiration and awe, and he will be competing against the best of the best. This is exactly where he needs to be, pitting his skills against the most elite of skaters. Here Victor will prove his greatness. 

Jean-Jacques Leroy is the favorite since Canada is his home country. He’s got solid quads and good presentation skills; he’s been talking about practicing a quad lutz though he hasn’t made an attempt at it in competitions yet. 

And Phichit Chulanont is here as well, something that Yuuri is excited about. He’s another skater with fantastic presence; he can get a crowd going. His steps are quick and unique, his dancing is vibrant, and he’s been working on solidifying his quad toe loop.

Georgi is here too and Victor is excited to get to see his old rinkmate again. But Georgi as a competitor is someone he has to keep an eye on. He’s another one with a high presentation score and he’s had his triple axel and quad toe loop down for years. The quad salchow is giving him trouble but he doesn’t need it to score high if he’s in the right frame of mind. 

Emil Nekola from the Czech Republic and Seung Gil from South Korea round out the upper echelon. Emil is only three years older than Victor but he’s been a top contender. And Seung Gil is a technically gifted skater though his low PCS have kept him from climbing the higher ranks. 

Victor goes to sleep imagining the possibilities on the podium. The additional hours of rest don’t damper his enthusiasm though and his excitement only builds as they make their way to the stadium.

“Test out the salchow combination first,” Yuuri says, looking out at the rink. “You’ve been sloppy with the transition in and out of it. And I wish I could say the extra space will help you but I honestly think it’s going to throw you off more.” 

“My own coach is doubting me!” Victor says in mock dismay before he steps onto the ice. He thinks he understand what Yuuri is saying though. Ice Castle is small and compact; he had exhausted himself during his first week of training here by using too much energy, used to the bigger rink back in Russia. 

Sae and Yuuri have been talking about visiting Minami again, to give their skaters a chance to practice on the larger rink. Minami is insistent that he would prefer to come train with them but the fact of the matter is they might not have time again. After the Grand Prix series they will all have Nationals to contend with and Victor’s will be in Russia instead of Japan, adding a further complication to their planning and travel. 

Vikter dutifully skates around, wrestling with his combination jump. He can tell it won't be as clean as he wants. The distance is just a shade too long for Victor to adjust to it naturally. It's going to take a concentrated effort. Yuri waves for him to come back to the boards to offer suggestions and Victor means to listen but then he catches sight of a familiar duo.

“Georgi! Yakov!” Victor shouts out and hurries across the rink to them. 

“You little runaway,” Georgi says, with an overdramatic sniff, arms folded across his chest. He has his skate guards in his hand, and he taps them in mock aggravation. “You think you can just run up and have everything forgiven?” 

“We get to compete!” Victor says. Georgi pretends to roll his eyes at him but Victor can tell he’s equally excited. 

“What was that out there? That’s the sloppiest axel I’ve seen from you,” Yakov says by way of greeting.

“I almost missed your scolding,” Victor says with a huge grin. Yakov presses a hand to his forehead and turns to Yuuri, who joined them once he saw what distracted Victor.

“He’s your problem now,” he says and leaves them. 

Georgi lingers for a moment more. 

“I wish Mila had been assigned here too. It’s not the same without you,” Georgi says. 

“I miss you guys too,” Victor says. 

“Mila and I say it's the time difference that keeps you from responding to us right away,” Georgi says. “It makes us feel better about your cruel abandonment.”

“It wasn't personal,” Victor says cheerfully. He gestures at Yuuri. “I needed him to train me.”

“I know you keep saying that but I don't really understand.” Georgi looks at Yuuri then back at Victor. “But you seem content.”

Georgi steps onto the ice and skates off without saying anything more. Victor looks at Yakov, who is glaring at them to get to practicing. It's a familiar feeling and Victor is glad he doesn't have to deal with anymore. He knows it's because Yakov cares. But that doesn't make it fun. 

“I’m so excited to skate against Georgi,” Victor says to Yuuri, eyes shining as he watches his old rinkmate warmup. 

“Focus on your skating,” Yuuri says. He’s says it kindly though he’s not smiling. 

It’s sound advice considering Victor keeps turning around to watch the other skaters. These are the people who can fling out a triple axel with ease, the ones who are testing out the limits of their quads, and pushing the very boundaries of the sport. 

It’s JJ with magnificent height on his triple lutz, Georgi with a stunning combination spin that doesn’t forget about his use of hands and arms, and Phichit’s gorgeous triple flip, half loop, triple toe loop combination that he ends with a flourish. 

Victor is sure that the only reason he doesn’t skate into the boards is years of practice ingrained. 

But he’s finally here.

Yuuri doesn’t admonish him as he comes off the ice but he’s quiet until they’re eating dinner, absently watching the local news. 

“Are you nervous?” Yuuri asks, watching him instead of the tv but trying to be subtle about it. It’s not but Victor is busy replaying everything he saw from the men’s practice in his head. He aches to be like them, to achieve that kind of elegance and prowess, then surpass it. 

“I want to compete now,” Victor says. Yuuri badly smothers a laugh when Victor misses his mouth as he tries to drink from his water bottle. Victor laughs at himself; he’s much more distracted than he had thought.

“You’ll have your chance tomorrow,” Yuuri says. He looks Victor over. “You’re really not that nervous, are you?” 

“I kind of am,” Victor says. He draws his knee up on the chair and leans his head against it. If he glances down he can see how the bandages around his two smallest toes are unravelling. He resists pulling at the tape and looks at Yuuri. “I want to win. I know I can.” 

“It’s good that you’re confident,” Yuuri says. “I get it. There’s a lot riding on your next performance. But you’re been training for this. We both know you’re ready.” 

“I am ready,” Victor confirms and Yuuri turns the television off. 

“Then let’s get to bed. If you have trouble sleeping, get me up, okay? I’m not the one out on the ice tomorrow.” 

Victor gives a wistful sigh because that could have happened. But then they wouldn’t be here, getting ready for Victor’s first Grand Prix assignment, together. 

The next day Victor is standing by the entrance door, jittery and unable to stand still. Yakov would have snapped at him to calm down. But Yuuri doesn’t do that. Instead he’s quiet, watching everyone around him, touching Victor’s skater’s badge every few minutes as if to keep checking to make sure he hasn’t forgotten them. 

Victor is eight to skate, and that just means he has too much time to bounce around. He tears his skate guards off the moment the seventh skater goes out onto the ice and he’s hovering by the door, waiting until he can step onto the ice. 

Yuuri hands him his drink and makes him take a sip, eyeing him all the while. Victor sets it down on the boards and looks at Yuuri, waiting for the last second words from his coach before he goes to perform.

“Are you going to do two quads?” Yuuri asks. 

Victor looks out at the ice and he wants to scream out confidently that he can do them, like he did last time. He wants to win so badly here, wants to get gold all through the Grand Prix. But he wants to learn, doesn’t want to waste Yuuri’s teaching, and he doesn’t know how to answer. 

The clock is ticking. His name will be called soon. 

“I want to,” he decides on saying. 

Yuuri nods and grasps his shoulders. 

“Do what feels right,” he says. “And take your time on the combination.”

Victor barely hears the warning as he waves to the crowd. What feels right? He doesn’t know. He burns to win, veins white hot with anticipation and nerves, but his chest is heavy and it’ll only drag him down if he tries to jump. He’s never felt like this before going into a skate. 

This is not the feeling of uninhibited joy that his short program calls for. His stomach churns as he skates out to center ice and takes his starting position. 

Victor throws himself into the song, because he’s so excited to be here, but it’s not that simple anymore. 

His legs ache, burn with the effort it takes to propel him off the ice for the quad toe loop, and it’s only the first jump. He still has the axel and the salchow combination. The two minutes and fifty seconds for the short program can be so long sometimes.

Victor wants to win, to soar higher than anyone else, so that people can never look away from him as he skates. But it’s a struggle to keep his arms up and sharp, especially as he has to draw them in to jump. 

Take your time, Yuuri had said, and Victor doesn’t think he meant anything more than to watch the timing on his combination jump. He takes a breath before jumping and keeps the salchow a triple. He has time. This is the first GP qualifier. He still has one more. 

Victor is smiling when he finishes the last spin and looks out to the cheering audience. Everything hurts, his body aching but satisfied with his exertion, even as Victor knows he could have done more. He could have done better. 

But Yuuri is waiting at the entrance with his guards and a proud look in his eyes; it’s easier to drop onto the bench in the kiss and cry with a satisfied grin when his coach is visibly beaming. He forces himself up to wave at the cameras and fans. Yuuri had grabbed one of the bouquets and stuffed animals from the people by the rinkside; Victor had been too zoned out to grab them himself, contrary to his usual self. 

It takes Victor a while before he feels like he can speak without gasping and fighting for air. Yuuri waits patiently, not saying I told you so, but Victor can practically feel it. He couldn’t have handled a second quad; the rest of his program would have suffered and he’s already working so hard on bumping up his program component scores, he doesn’t need something else to drag them down. 

“I don’t know how you did it,” Victor says. 

“Better stamina?” Yuuri suggests, kind but serious. “You’re used to shorter lengths in Juniors still. It’s not an easy transition.” 

Victor wants to say that he’s good enough that he should be able to handle it. But he downs half of a water bottle instead. Yuuri has already agreed to slowly add the quads back in in order to time him for the GPF.

He just needs to get better; practice more, practice harder, and study more. Victor won’t make history by playing it safe.

**Hasetsu, Japan**

**December 2014**

“So. You’re not doing anything for the GPF?” Minako asks but it’s not really a question so much as a confirmation. She waves at the lack of decorations around the dining hall. If she could summon them with a glare, Yuuri thinks she would.

“Yuuri isn’t in it,” Hiroko says, a little blank and blunt, staring at Minako in stark confusion. 

Yuuri bites his lip to hide his smile. His family doesn’t understand more than the mere basics of figure skating. It’s always been about Yuuri for them. If he’s not in a competition then they really don’t care.

“I’m not even going to ask about you,” Minako says to Yuuri, glaring at him. 

Yuuri shrugs and ignores the vitriol in her voice. He’s already heard it from Phichit this morning; it doesn’t matter that it was in text form. He could feel it coming from the emojis and words. Phichit has a very illuminating manner of texting. 

Because of course he’s going to watch the GPF; he hasn’t missed watching one in decades. The top six skaters of each discipline are going to show off their best skating tonight. 

But it’s going to be in the privacy of his room, where no one like Minako can ask him a thousand invasive questions. 

This is what’s best for him. He loves figure skating, loves the ice, but it can never love him back. It is cold and unforgiving; the second he slips up he will crash into it the same as if he hated it. 

And there’s no point in fighting it. He will have to retire someday. It’s better to do it now while his body is strong and uninjured. 

He didn’t watch the warm ups so he settles into his desk chair the watch the final performances. These are all people he has competed against before. It’s sort of freeing to sit back and just think as a fan of figure skating, rather than worrying about points and base values. He can admire the skills and performances from the comfort of his home instead of panicking by the rinkside.

Emil Nekola from the Czech Republic is the first alternate who got the spot Yuuri effectively forfeited. Georgi and Chris made it as well, along with two Americans who Yuuri always mixes up. And Yuri-kun, of course. He’s the clear favorite now that Yuuri is out of the picture. 

Yuuri chuckles to himself a little, thinking about how happy Yuri-kun probably is at this turn of events. It’s not the same as outright beating him but if he can break either of his world records, then that’s good in its own way. 

These are the programs he was skating against and he has a whole new appreciation for them; he knows exactly how much work it takes to make one of these programs and after a week of relative lazing around, he is struck anew at how much energy and effort it takes to skate competitively. 

He’s forgotten what it was like to watch figure skating out of sheer joy. Somewhere along the way, he had lost it, wrapped up in the pursuit of victory. But that full body adoration returns, sending chills through him as he watches the skaters perform with all their heart and soul. 

He’s not thinking about how Chris’ quad toe loop combination in the second half of his program will garner him a tidy sixteen points. He doesn’t have to care what Georgi’s transitions into the first steps of his step sequence are worth in terms of GOE. The spins, the jumps, Emil’s touchdown on an axel; none of them matter. It’s the whole of their programs that Yuuri soaks up and admires.

He’s going to visit Ice Castle after this, damn the time; he needs to be on the ice. It has nothing to do with retirement, Yuuri tells himself. He can still skate. Retirement has never meant stopping skating entirely for Yuuri. It’s been so much easier to get onto the ice these past two weeks. He doesn’t have to feverishly practice or work on rotating his body 1440 degrees in the air. He can just skate. 

Yuri-kun ends up in third at the short program, an interesting spot for him; he’s usually first after the short program. Yuuri has stood to his side many a time during the small medals ceremony; though Yuri-kun looks just as pissed as ever during the photos 

He had stumbled on his triple axel and quad salchow but he hadn’t outright fallen. But there are a hundred trivial reasons why a skater can have an off skate.

Yuuri turns the stream off and heads out to Ice Castle, letting himself in with his own key. He hasn’t had to use it in so long, not since his days as a junior, trying to work as hard as he could to make it on the international level.

He smiles as he sees the ice, even though it’s jagged from the day’s skaters. The zamboni runs in the mornings. But that’s not enough to dampen Yuuri’s mood. 

He can’t explain it but he feels so light, like it takes no effort to spin and dance across the ice. It’s been so long since he felt like this. He’s always felt more comfortable on the ice than anywhere else but it’s not that. Yuuri skates and skates, the answer eluding his tongue even as he can feel it in his chest.

He doesn’t stop skating until he can feel his feet bleeding; he’s stupid for pushing himself so hard but the rest of him is pleasantly satisfied. Yuuri is asleep the moment he hits the pillow but he wakes up with a strange feeling in his chest. He chalks it up to waking up on the wrong side of the bed even though he knows that’s not it. 

He spends the next few days at Hinode, knowing that Minako only goes there once in a while, and desperately not wanting her eyes on him. He can’t explain why, and he’s relieved when he comes back home to hear that she had came and left. 

Yuuri watches the women and pairs, admiring the performances and teamwork. He devours it all, even the interviews and youtube clips, hungry for something he cannot put his finger on. He does the same thing the next day with the men’s free skates and the ice dancers. 

There’s something buzzing under his skin as he watches Emil take to the ice, waving to the crowd. It only grows as he watches Chris and Georgi perform.

And then it’s Yuri-kun’s turn, third to last to skate.

Yuuri barely breathes during the four and a half minutes that Yuri-kun skates. He’s so assured of his victory and it shows in every gesture he makes, from the quadrupole salchow to the most minute twitch of his fingers. This is what a champion truly looks like and Yuuri doesn’t shy away from admitting that his eyes well up from the sheer perfection and the slightest bit of envy. 

He doesn’t pay as much attention to the last two skaters, more interested in watching Yuri-kun’s post skate interviews. 

It’s not a surprise that Yuri Plisetsky ends up at the top of the podium and it’s far from the first time it’s happened.

Yuuri watches with longing tearing at his chest and an itch in his body to move. He’s practically crawling with the feeling. He’s going to Ice Castle again tonight, damn his feet and damn the time. 

Yuuri doesn’t wait for the medal ceremony to end. He barely stops to think if Celestino is awake or not as he calls him, though later on he assures himself that Celestino was probably watching the GPF live too. 

“Celestino,” Yuuri says, not even waiting for Celestino to greet him when he answers, “I’m not done.” 

Celestino sighs in relief. 

“I know,” he says. “I have been hoping to hear that from you. Yuuri, we have a lot to do now. We need to talk about nationals. And your training regime. I know you mentioned you were still going to the ice rink in your town. That’s good so let’s-”

Yuuri lets Celestino’s voice wash over him for a moment. He stares at Yuri-kun, center podium, and clenches his fist. 

He’s not done yet. 

**Rostelecom Cup**

**Moscow, Russia**

**November 2016**

Yuri hears his phone go off and he groans. He’s only been in bed for ten minutes after getting off the train station. He can’t visit Moscow and not see his grandpa; it makes the whole trip a little more hectic and Yakov is tired after two weeks in North America. Georgi ended up with Skate America and Skate Canada so they had decided to stay instead of coming back to Russia in between events.

He’s about to ignore his phone when he looks at it, unable to help himself. Turns out to be a good thing because it’s Katsuki, asking if he’s gotten there safely. 

Yuri flips the phone on and calls him to video chat. If he can’t, he’ll let Yuri know. But he does end up answering. 

“Yuri-kun!” Katsuki has a wide grin on his face.

“Too tired to text,” Yuri says, still lying down but sideways so he can see Katsuki. 

“I know, I was looking forward to a break from all the travelling,” Katsuki says with a scrunch of his face. He’s almost thirty, he’s not allowed to be that cute still. 

“Got the room all to myself though,” Yuri says, half bragging and half relishing it. 

“Yakov isn’t there with you?” Katsuki asks, peering around as if he can see into the room.

“Not yet,” Yuri says. He hesitates then looks away from the screen. “My grandpa lives in Moscow. So when Rostelecom is here, I come earlier to see my grandpa.” 

“Oh. That’s good,” Katsuki says. Yuri relaxes at Katsuki’s tone, which is warm and pleased; he looks back at the screen to see Katsuki watching him. 

“Yeah, he can’t go see me in person, there are too many people and it’s a huge hassle for him. But I like being able to see him before,” Yuri says. “Like a good luck thing, you know?” 

“Mm, I get it,” Katsuki says. Every skater has their own rituals, their own beliefs, their own charms that they believe will help them win. Katsuki has no visible ones that Yuri knows of but he’s sure Katsuki has some ideal he clings to; he absently considers asking what Katsuki’s are. They’re a superstitious lot, figure skaters are.

He looks up at Yuuri and wets his lips. “It’s too bad you aren’t here too.” 

Katsuki blinks then smiles at him, so soft and loving that Yuri can’t regret what he said. 

“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “All I can do from here is wish you good luck.” 

“I don’t need your luck,” Yuri says with a smirk. Then he panics because Katsuki was saying something nice and encouraging; Yuri didn’t need to be a little shit about it. 

Katsuki laughs. 

“Probably not. But I’m still going to say it.” 

“Are you going to watch?” Yuri asks. 

“Of course,” Katsuki says, blinking at him in surprise. Then his expressions morphs into a smug look. “I have to keep an eye on the competition.” 

Yuri could laugh it off. He knows what Katsuki is doing. And it is true. If Victor is aiming for the GPF then Yuri is definitely one of the ones to watch out for because he will make it in. Victor got bronze in Skate Canada, beating Georgi out for the podium; he’s in a good position to qualify.

“No, I don’t want you watching me like that. I want you to watch me and nothing else.” 

Katsuki gives him a look. Yuri turns his face away from the screen. 

“You know what I mean,” he mutters, more than a little embarrassed. 

“I could never miss a performance from you,” Katsuki says, and the strength of his gaze is enough to pull Yuri back to him, even through the camera. He has these moments where he’s so terrifyingly sincere compared to the rest of the time when it seems like all he can do is hide himself away. He scratches at his face a little and it eases Yuri to see that he’s shy and awkward too. “It made me so nervous sometimes, to see how good you are; you were always right there waiting for me to mess up. And I know it wasn’t like that. But that didn’t stop me.”

“Good,” Yuri chokes out, his throat dry. It’s everything he has wanted to hear. To know that he’s been a worthy rival, that Katsuki has always watched him; he hadn’t even known how badly he’d wanted, needed to hear it all confirmed. 

“I should probably let you sleep,” Katsuki says in a rush. Yuri nods, glad that Katsuki is just as embarrassed about this display of emotions as he is. It hurts in the best of possible ways but it’s still a fucking mess. 

They bid each other farewell and Yuri makes sure that his phone is still plugged in to charge as he replays their conversation until he falls asleep. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep to the sound of Katsuki’s warm voice saying he’d never miss one of his performances. 

He carries that comfortable feeling with him through the night and Yakov squints at his too chipper mood when he arrives at the rink the next morning.

“What did you do,” he says in a flat tone. 

“The fuck, old man, I didn’t do shit,” Yuri says, brow furrowing. He can hear Lilia’s voice, ever so faintly telling him to watch his language. He’s always going to hear it, oh god. “I did the same thing I always do in Moscow, I saw my Grandpa, and then came straight to the hotel.” 

Yakov grunts at him, disbelieving but having no proof, and Yuri fumes as he takes to the ice for the last practice of the day before the actual performance later on this afternoon. 

He didn’t even do anything wrong; he just doesn’t really feel like explaining to Yakov that he talked to Katsuki on the phone and now apparently that’s all he needs to be a fucking ray of sunshine. It’s humiliating on so many levels. 

Yakov is dully satisfied with practice and while he keeps looking him over, Yuri ignores him like always to update his twitter and instagram. This is the time to earn his sponsorships and he’s trying to tag as many appropriate things as possible before he has to go out to perform. He likes posting right before a skate; it keeps him distracted in a good way.

“Remember-” Yakov starts when Yuri hands him his skate guards at the entrance to the rink. Yuri scowls at him and Yakov’s veins visibly pop. “Listen! For once! You have the opportunity to win the way you’ve always wanted to but that doesn’t mean you can sit back and relax.” 

“I am taking this seriously,” Yuri says, barely keeping from spitting the words out. He skates off instead, comfortable with Yakov glaring and yelling at him. 

Yuri lets the noise around him fade as he skates into position. 

There’s a crowd, an audience, but right now Yuri only cares for the opinion of one person. 

‘Watch this, Katsuki Yuuri.’

Yuri looks down, eyes closed as he waits for the first few notes to play before he begins to move. He’s going for a row of gold, both in the Grand Prix series and the Final, because Katsuki has always stopped his runs but he’s not here. So Yuri will take what should have always been his. 

He flies through the air on the quad salchow, landing with a flourish of triumphant fists raised, because there is no one here who can match him. This year will be his. He’s sure that was a +3 GOE. Not even Yakov could have found a fault in it. 

He skates to win, because he’s good at it, and he loves it. It’s not going to be the same, skating through the Grand Prix series without Katsuki there at the end, a goal and a promise all at once.

He needs to break Katsuki’s records this season. It will always be meaningful to hold the world record but he needs to do it this year, while Katsuki is fresh out of skating. If he has to take the time to work up to beating it, it won’t be the same. 

Yuri can already hear Yakov’s scolding as he fucks up a change of edge during his step sequence. He’s not Katsuki. He never will be. He can only be himself, hungry to win and yearning to climb higher than anyone else. 

Yuri grins as he finishes his last spin, almost lazy during the final steps, because while that wasn’t good enough for Yakov’s freakishly piercing eyes, it was more than good enough for everyone else. He waves and bows to the audience, his entire body thrumming with adrenaline. 

“Your step sequence is going to get downgraded,” Yakov says in greeting. 

“Bet you I got threes on my jump GOE’s,” Yuri counters. He gratefully accepts the bottle of water from Yakov as they make their way to the kiss and cry. It was far from a perfect performance but it felt good despite that.

He grabs his phone the second he’s able to and sure enough, there’s a message from Katsuki. 

‘Well done.’

Yuri undoes his ponytail, not caring that it’s a stiff mess; it’s enough to hide his smile from the hundreds of cameras in the stadium. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA I return triumphant with a chapter! ~~And a whole lot of other stuff. That I cannot discuss on ao3. But if you like physical zines then I would definitely check out the link below.~~ Thank you for all your lovely comments and for being so patient while I took a break  <3
> 
> https://scribblyorro.tumblr.com/
> 
> 1/27/2018: Ignore the strikethrough parts. Turned out to be a failure. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	11. Chapter 11

GP Cup of China 2016  
Beijing, China  
November 2016

“My ankle is fine,” Yuri mutters under his breath to Yakov before he can ask. He can’t speak loudly nor take refuge in their native language because there’s another Russian coach nearby with his skater; and they all hate Vlad and his skaters. It would be a better rivalry if they were worth the effort; as it is they’re fucking annoying and they get in the way.

Yakov grunts, mostly believing him but still keeping a healthy dose of skepticism just in case it turns out that Yuri is lying. But he’s telling the truth; aches and sprains are just part of the background radiation of an athlete’s life. Yuri has skated on worse. If he hadn’t caught Yakov’s considering look at his leg, he wouldn’t have remembered he’d banged it up when he’d failed on a quad loop attempt. 

Yuri makes a little noise of annoyance; he’d fallen just as Yakov had returned from going over some choreography with Mila and the resulting shouting match had driven one of the juniors to tears because for some reason they had mistakenly thought the conversation had been about them. 

Yuri unrolls his exercise mat and takes advantage that he can’t look at Yakov, keeping his focus on himself. He does make it a point to show off his flexibility to Yakov, who eventually pulls a face. 

“Behave,” he scolds without menace, arms crossed and focus inward. 

Yuri grins with more teeth than happiness but he’s made his point. 

Yakov takes off to use the bathroom, his old man bladder protesting at all of the travel. Yuri goes on stretching and keeping his muscles warm when someone clears their throat. 

Yuri looks up from the split he’s doing on the ground and blinks. It’s one of the other men skaters, and his name is on the tip of Yuri’s tongue, but he can’t find it. 

“Good luck,” he says. 

Yuri cheats and looks at his ID tag. He nods in acknowledgment, saying nothing to Otabek Altin of Kazakhstan. They’ve never really spoken before but Otabek took third at Four Continents last year. He’s one of the skaters to watch, the relentless younger faction that is coming up, ready to drive Yuri off even though it’s not their time yet.

Otabek nods and then walks away. Yuri blinks at him, then frowns, more confused than anything else. Yakov comes back from the bathroom and Yuri stands up. 

“What do you know about Otabek Altin?” Yuri asks. He jerks his thumb behind him but he’s pretty sure he’s long gone. Yakov glances around, confirming that Otabek is nowhere in sight. 

“Not a threat to you. Maybe to Georgi on his bad days,” Yakov says. “Why?” 

“He introduced himself,” Yuri says. 

“Hm,” Yakov says, which means he’s just as confused or he knows something and is keeping it close to himself until he gets more information. Either way, Yuri puts the skater out of his mind, simply resolving to watch him skate later today and finish formulating his opinion based off that. 

He keeps on stretching till Yakov gives him a five minute warning since his turn is coming up. Their only competition here is Yuri himself, but Yuri feels good, so he’s not worried about fucking it up. The little puffed up moron from Canada is here and currently in first place, but Yuri is not even remotely worried about AJ Leroy. 

“I think it’s PJ, actually,” Yuri says with a frown, and Yakov sighs at him. 

“Stick to calling him Leroy. You remember that much at least,” Yakov says. He’s got that twist to his mouth that means he’s had to deal with people about this. Yuri can’t imagine who would get pissed off on DJ Leroy’s behalf. 

“You hate his programs just as much as I do.” 

“They’re immature. He’s trying too hard to show off. And he neglects his transitions for jumps,” Yakov says, boring his look into Yuri, who grins a little. It’s a bit of a mad smile because Lilia has been brutal about making sure his every move on the ice is smooth. He’d forgotten how deep her grip became when she taught. 

“So you think he’s a good challenge for me?” Yuri asks. 

“Get your gold medal,” Yakov orders and Yuri pushes off the barrier with a smirk. 

Yakov hates this program with a passion. He regularly bemoans that his star skater is performing to screams instead of songs though Yuri can’t see what the big deal is. Figure skating changes; compulsory figures go out and songs with lyrics come in. Yakov is good but he can’t keep up with the times as much as he likes to think.

And when his short program is to fucking Swan Lake, because Lilia had somehow convinced him that he could put a fresh spin on the most decayed and overused song in figure skating history, Yuri is of the opinion that Yakov could use some actual culture in his life; _I Want It More_ is so much more Yuri’s style. 

Yuri waits for the first beat of the piano then moves, sharp and determined. He’s going to wake up the judges’ crotchety old hearts with this performance. And he’s going to show the audience why he’s the new undisputed legend, how he always should have been.

Yuri slams his toepick into the ice and pushes off for the first quad, dizzy not from the four rotations but from the elation at landing clean and right. Landing the first jump doesn’t guarantee anything for the rest of the program but Yuri doesn't care; he’s worked hard for this moment and he can’t fail. 

He lands his next triple lutz and triple loop, sturdy and clean. 

The triple axel is where he starts to feel the ache of his legs, and he doesn’t land well, barely managing to keep his hands off the ice. He’s had a lot of practice at falling and it comes in handy even if he’s not aiming for simply landing. Yuri is after perfection, supreme excellence being an acceptable alternate.

(Later, when he’s rewatching his skate, he’ll grit his teeth a little. Katsuki almost never fucks up his axels.)

He can’t expend too much energy during his step sequence and it’s a problem that he’s had, pacing himself so that he has enough energy for the rest of the performance. But he wants to nail a level four here because Katsuki always has. 

And because he need to break Katsuki’s records. And he won’t do that by leaving valuable points on the table because he keeps skating on the wrong edge into his backwards crossover no matter how long he’s practiced the stupid sequence. 

The quad salchow is in the second half and Yuri pulls in as much strength as he can; it’s a jump that doesn’t betray him for all the time he’s invested, even when he’s exhausted, and Yuri regains his momentum as he lands upright. 

He adds in a little kick before he goes into the combination spin, elated as he approaches the end. It’s not a perfect skate but it’s a solid one and Yuri doesn’t hide his joy at his assured win. 

How could anyone give this up? It’s not the end of the world when he stumbles on the ice. Yuri can always get back up and keep on skating. 

He’s gasping for air as he finishes but it’s separate from him. This is what he works for, lives for, aches for. There’s a crowd cheering for what they recognize as the best of the best, and Yuri drinks it in, satisfied for more even though he knows in a few minutes he’ll be greedy for it again. And he’ll have Yakov by his side nit picking his programs because as great as he is, Yuri can do better. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Yuri says as he takes his blade guards because Yakov is going to nag at him for the axels. He’s disappointed in himself too because he’s done them so much better and he knows that he’s getting a negative grade on them. 

“If you know then why don’t you do it out there?” Yakov scolds but he doesn’t harp on it anymore. 

Yuri doesn’t have to wait for the scores to know that he’s won this event. 

His Grand Prix Final Gold is going to feel so good. 

World Figure Skating Championships  
Shanghai, China  
March 2015

“Who are you looking for?” Celestino asks as Yuuri jogs up and down the path. He’s been on his phone for the past half hour, watching Yuuri warm up, and presumably keeping people away from Yuuri so he can focus on the upcoming skate. 

Yuuri stumbles and pretends like he hadn’t. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You keep looking around,” Celestino says then he shrugs. “You don’t seem as nervous as I expected you to be so I’m not too concerned.” 

“It’s nothing. No one. I’m not looking for anyone,” Yuuri says but he’s stammering so much and he knows his face is red. 

Celestino looks him in the eye then shrugs again. But he’s got a little smile and Yuuri faces away from him to keep jogging, burning with embarrassment. 

He’s looking for Yuri-kun but he hasn’t seen him yet. They’re both in the last group of skaters on the ice today for the short program. All of the other skaters are around, warming up and stretching; someone is in the corner adjusting a bad tear that they got during practice and Yuuri is highly thankful it didn’t happen to him.

Nationals was his redemption. Worlds will be his test. 

“There they are,” Celestino murmurs. 

Yuuri looks at him with a frown but then catches what has caught everyone’s attention. The Russian team is walking in with minutes to spare and looking harried about it.

“Someone was saying Feltsman wasn’t feeling good,” Celestino says, half interested but more concerned with worrying about Yuuri. 

“Oh,” Yuuri says, because that explains why the Russian skaters are showing up late. He chances a glance at them, though he’s not really familiar enough with Yakov to know the difference between his usual stern expression and a sick one. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Celestino says, meaning something else.

“I’m not worried,” Yuuri says to his unspoken concern and it’s true. The important part is that Yuri-kun is here. 

Part of Yuuri wants to go and talk to him but there’s no time. He drew first for the last group and his turn is up next. The nerves he’s expecting are muted, locked behind that drive to prove himself. 

He blinks and finds himself listening to Celestino who is no doubt saying something encouraging to him. It’s a distant noise, much like the sound of thousands of figure skating fans in the crowd; the only real sound Yuuri can hear is the way his blades shift on the ice, scratchy and rough but comforting.

Yuuri takes a measured breath as he waits for the music. He doesn’t have to ask Yuri-kun to watch him; he can feel his intense look even from here. His mind is calm, body ready to move, to show Yuri-kun and the rest of the world the flames of his heart and soul. 

Yuuri starts, moving with the violins, refusing to fail here. 

It’s been too long since he was last with Yuri-kun but time could never erase it from his memory. There’s a fire in him that only exists when he’s around Yuri-kun, and he nurtures it, raising it into a blaze for everyone to see. He’s never been ashamed of him, but it’s hard to explain himself off the ice. 

Yuuri kicks his toepick into the ice and jumps into his quad toe, landing to the cheers of the crowd, letting that energy buoy him into his next set of steps. He’s here to prove to himself that he can win, that no one’s faith in him as been false; that the voices inside of him are wrong and he has earned his victories. 

He’s too busy looking around, trying to catch sight of Yuri-kun to see what his expression is like even though it’s a futile effort, and the moment he’s in the air he knows he’s not going to land clean. But he fights, clings to the ice as much as possible, and twists to avoid putting his hands on the ground. He stays upright but it’s not a clean landing. 

Yuuri makes sure his transition out of the failed jump is as smooth as possible. It’s a mistake but it won’t be one that costs him his victory.

‘I came back because of you,” Yuuri thinks. It’s partly true though he’s not sure when he’s going to be able to admit that Yuri-kun. But Yuuri won’t deny to himself that Yuri-kun had a hand in delaying his retirement. He burns to skate against Yuri-kun, and to beat him, because Yuri-kun has shown that he has no problem taking the top spot on the podium. 

It’s exactly the challenge that Yuuri craves even as nerve wracking as it is. Because to beat Yuri-kun here and now will mean it’s never been a fluke. It’ll prove that Yuuri is better. 

He doesn’t falter but pushes forward into his last spin, and maybe it’s a little twisted but all he can picture is Yuri-kun’s hands on his body and the way it felt to have him underneath, panting and demanding more. 

The fading notes of the violins are washed away by the cheers of the crowd and Yuuri holds his ending pose for a moment more before letting reality sink back in. He waves and bows, torn between searching out Yuri-kun right away but not wanting to see too desperate. 

Yuuri doesn’t catch him and he sits in the kiss and cry, feeling more than a little awkward and naked, especially when Celestino wraps an arm around his shoulder in a congratulatory hug. 

“I messed up,” Yuuri says, trying to fight off the doubts that are creeping up. The time in between the performance and the scores is always this nerve wracking, especially when he has major errors like this. 

“You weren’t perfect but you were fantastic,” Celestino argues. He crows in satisfaction, clapping Yuuri’s back as his score comes up, putting him in first place for now. 

Yuuri sighs in relief, ignoring Celestino’s smirk. He’s making his way out of the kiss and cry when he finally catches Yuri-kun’s gaze. Yuri-kun is staring at him with hunger in his eyes, but for victory or for Yuuri himself, he can’t know until he gets his hands on him. 

They don’t have time to hang around and chat, so Yuuri settles for a nod of his head to acknowledge him, unsurprised when Yuri-kun turns his head away. 

Tonight, he tells himself, certain that Yuri-kun is telling himself the same thing. 

Trophée de France  
Paris, France  
November 2016

“What happens if I get fourth place? Will I still be able to qualify? You get nine points for fourth place and I have eleven points right now so I don’t think it would be possible to qualify with twenty points. Well it’s probably not impossible but when you can get fifteen points for a single first place spot, twenty points between two events seems like nothing. I definitely need first place but Christophe Giacometti is here and he’s so consistent. Hey, Yuuri, do you think-?” Victor says as they walk to the rink for the free skate. Yuuri is walking but Victor is bouncing, unable to keep his energy contained. 

“I’m going to text Mari-neechan to send you another video of Makkachin,” Yuuri says without looking at him. He’s already got his phone out, texting as he weaves in between the other skaters, coaches, and staff. 

Victor will never say no to videos of his beloved dog but he’s asking serious questions here. He’s in third place after the short program and his placement in the Final is in jeopardy. 

But Yuuri is trying to distract him with his own dog and it’s so underhanded that Victor can’t help but admire the idea. He grumbles about placements as Yuuri checks them both in and finds them a corner to stretch in. Especially because a minute later his phone rings with a text and sure enough, it’s a video of Makkachin barking as Mari dangles a piece of fish in front of her. Victor sighs in delight as he watches Makkachin jump and yip for the treat. 

“She’s so cute,” Victor says. 

“She’s going to get fat.” But Yuuri still smiles as he watches the video over Victor’s shoulder. Then he taps him and Victor puts his phone away to stretch. “Remember, I’ll take it away if it’s distracting you.” 

“I know,” Victor snaps. Yuuri blinks at him but retracts his hand and shoves them into his pockets. Victor bites his lip and sinks down to the floor, using the guise of his stretch to hide his face. 

He wants to apologize but at the same time he doesn't want to. It’s easier to stretch, to work his muscles, because that’s what Victor knows best. But he can’t find his focus on it the way he usually can before a performance. His mind keeps jumping back to his placement, to the points, and to what he needs to do today in order to make it to the Final. 

“This is not the time,” Yuuri muttered to himself and Victor looks up to see a reporter and a camera operator walking straight for them. 

Yuuri tries to shake his head and he’s going to tell them to leave but Victor boils a little. He doesn’t need Yuuri to watch over him like he’s a child. Victor stands up and steps forward and faces the reporter. 

“Hi, how are you?” He says, grinning as beautifully as he can manage, holding his hand out with a light air even though right now he’d like to do nothing more than to punch something. It’s not a familiar feeling to be so wound up and he doesn't like it, but he doesn’t know how to stop it. He glances at the press badge. “Oh, Gabriel, were you at my last Grand Prix?”

“Victor Nikiforov, thank you! Yes, I was, but I didn’t get a chance to do more than get a photo,” Gabriel says, clearly pleased at the thought that Victor supposedly remembered him. It’s a neat little trick that Victor picked up on twitter from another skater; he doesn’t remember to do it often enough though. “How are you feeling about today’s event?” 

“Pretty good,” Victor lies. “I really hope to have a strong performance today.” 

“You’re in the running for a Final position but it’s all dependent on your placement here. What are your chances today to making the podium?” 

“Um,” Victor starts but the reporter isn’t done.

“Christophe Giacometti is here. He’s frequently on the podium and he’s looking to win the gold. How do you feel competing against him?”

“I can’t wait,” Victor answers honestly. He wants to see how he ranks against a top skater like Giacometti but he’s struggling to find a way to phrase it appropriately. 

“You’re starting off strong with a third place finish from Skate Canada. Do you think you can keep up the momentum?” 

“Uh, yes, I hope to,” Victor says. There’s a pit growing in his stomach now. 

“You’d be one of the youngest competitors if you made it in. How does it feel compete against people you’ve watched skate before?” 

“Oh, it’s been good,” Victor starts, unsure where he’s going with it. Gabriel seems to think that’s his answer though and continues. 

“These guys are all used to the senior level and you’re just starting off, right? How do you think that matters, your lack of experience compared to their seniority?” 

“Um. My lack of experience?” Victor repeats. He can’t even look to Yuuri because his mind pieces together what is happening here, how thoroughly he’s being doubted before he can even skate and demonstrate his skills. 

“I’m sorry but we have to leave now,” Yuuri says.

Victor can’t focus even as the camera flashes at them; Yuuri’s arm guiding him away is the only thing that’s keeping him upright and moving. He should have let Yuuri keep them away. Yakov had always done the same and he’d never realized it till now, how well he had been protected. 

“Are you going to tell me I can’t make it?” Victor says, trying to hide how despondent he is. 

“Why would I do that?” Yuuri asks, still blinking after the camera bulbs of the reporter. He shakes his head with a smirk of a smile. “I know you can do it. 

“It’s my first year as a senior and it’s not-“ 

“I’ve been right there beside you as you trained for the past six months. I know exactly how good you are. And I know that you are more than capable of placing in the Grand Prix Final,” Yuuri says, and he’s so certain that Victor just stares at him, more than slightly overcome as his coach expresses his faith in him. “But even if you don’t? We still have so much left in the season. I know you will work hard for nationals, and Euros, and worlds.”

“Thank you,” Victor says, choking back tears. “I, that was...nice.” 

Yuuri finally faces him and then he blanches a little as he seems Victor trembling at his effort not to cry. He flails his hands around, unsure what to do. 

“You said it was nice!”

“It was nice!” Victor wipes at his eyes. 

“But-!” Yuuri doesn’t finish his sentence but Victor knows what he was going to say anyway. 

“I don’t know what to tell you! It happens!” Victor says, laughing a little now. He always forgets how awkward it is to cry around other people; he can’t even remember the last time he did. That’s all changed this year. 

He takes a few moments to finish hiccuping, Yuuri awkwardly patting his back. By the time his group is up, Victor has recovered, even if Yuuri is still looking at him like he’s going to burst out in tears again. 

“I’m all done with that,” Victor says, more than a little amused. 

“For now,” Yuuri says, unconvinced. 

“I promise, I’m fine now. Okay well maybe afterwards I might cry if I don’t get a good score. Or if I do get a good score and make it into the GPF.” 

“So you’ll probably cry after this, got it,” Yuuri says. He sighs and shrugs, but the corners of his lips are turned up in a faint smile. 

“Watch me, Coach,” Victor says, grinning like a mad man. He’s buzzing with excitement, ready to go out and skate, and he’s so thankful Yuuri just nods and smiles at him even though he should probably be more worried about Victor. Because he feels like he’s about to burst from all the energy in his body if he doesn’t skate right now. 

The world is doubting him right now and Victor is going to prove them all wrong. He’s here to win, to take over Yuuri’s place as the best figure skater, and it doesn’t matter that the other skaters have more experience; Victor has the talent needed to fly past them to the top of the podium. 

The piano starts, the first notes soft and steady, before beginning the quicker trills. Victor pushes off theice and starts, fighting to keep his body smooth and languid. He is the ascending lark and when people watch him, they will see him soar. 

There’s no trace of disobedience in him today as he sticks to his quad toe loop, no plans to change up the elements. All he wants to do is to skate the way his program is intended and designed to be performed. Because today, right now, he can reach the sky.

He flies through his triple flip, barely taking note of the landing as he moves into the next set of steps. It’s not perfect, not by any means, because he can feel the fatigue starting to wear on him and he knows his form has gotten sloppy. He’s not used to the longer times in seniors yet, he’s not used to seniors yet, and it burns at him that this is still an issue. 

Victor fights to push it aside, to focus on that endless joy of dancing across the ice, only leaving it to jump through the air. 

His whole body burns as he finally comes to a stop, muscles crying out, pushed as hard as they could go. 

He can’t hear the crowd, can’t see past the ice; all he feels is that slow pulse of satisfaction from knowing he’s delivered a good skate. Victor catches sight of Yuuri waiting for him at the edge of the rink and he goes to him, blinking in a bit of a daze as he makes contact with the boards. 

“That was beautiful,” Yuuri says, handing him his skate guards and letting Victor fall into his arms the moment they’re on. Victor clings to him, feeling a little raw; he wants to ask if this was how Yuuri felt after showing such emotion on the ice but he doesn’t currently have the mental capacity to put the question together. 

Victor grunts out an unattractive thanks and drops onto the bench in the kiss and cry, slowly regaining the feeling in his mind. Yuuri taps him on the knee when his score comes up and Victor lifts his head to see that he's currently in first place, with a personal best. 

“Oh my god,” he whispers, too elated to say anything more eloquent. 

“I knew you could do it,” Yuuri says, beaming with pride, and Victor is going to overflow from how ecstatic he is. 

The second to last skater comes up but his performance isn’t enough to beat Victor’s score. Victor’s attention is pulled away from the questions he’s getting from the reporters and Yuuri doesn’t hide his smile.

“Christophe Giacometti is next and he’s the last skater which means-” Victor starts. 

“You’re either going to keep first place or take second,” Yuuri confirms. He’s been keeping close to Victor during the interviews, directing questions away as needed, and Victor has gratefully let him. But now he brings it to an end so they can watch Chris’ skate in peace 

It’s a beautiful program, performed by a talented skater, and it isn’t a surprise when Chris takes first place from Victor to win the gold. 

But Victor takes second overall and he screams when the score comes through, barely able to hear Yuuri’s spoken congratulations over the sound of his own voice turning hoarse and his heart doing its best to lurch out of his chest in joy.

He’s going to the Grand Prix Final.

GP Cup of China  
Beijing, China  
November 2016

Victor has qualified for the GPF. Yuri doesn’t have to wait until Nationals to see Katsuki. There’s no one to tell though and Yuri is bursting to scream it out. Maybe he could tell Mila and Georgi but then he would have to explain how he’s secretly been fucking Katsuki for years, then they sort of got together, then Yuri kind of broke up with him and they just recently got back into something like an actual relationship; he doesn’t have time for that nonsense. 

He’s already forced to wait until he’s in the hotel room, once all the celebrations and press are done, and all the interviews about how he’s excited to have qualified for the Grand Prix Final are over. Of course he was going to qualify, that shouldn’t have been a surprise for anyone, but he is content that he’s going into the Final with two gold medals. 

Still, he’s forced to wait till the morning to call Katsuki, since it’s already late by the time he gets to bed. Hasetsu is an hour ahead of where he is and even if Katsuki stayed up to watch the competition live, he probably went to sleep right after. 

Yuri sets up his phone on the dresser and waits for Katsuki to pick up, absently folding his clothes into his suitcase.

“Congrats!” Katsuki blurts out before Yuri can even greet him. “Ah, sorry, I thought that’s why you were calling and I-”

“It is,” Yuri says. He grins goofily at Katsuki. “I thought I would have to wait till Nationals.” 

“What,” Katsuki says, blinking at him. 

Yuri blanks, then panics, because he’s okay admitting it to himself but it’s an entirely different matter to say it to Katsuki. Then he remembers that they’re friends who are sort of dating and pretends like he hadn’t had a moment of alarm. 

“To see you,” Yuri says. “I’ll see you at the GPF now too.” 

“Oh, right, you didn’t think Victor would make it,” Katsuki says, and he turns away from the camera. Instead his gaze a little bit too high, but it’s deliberate, and Yuri’s panic is back. He’s about to ruin his shirt the way he’s wringing it in his hands. But then Katsuki sighs and looks back at him. “Sorry. I know it’s not like that. We’ve been dealing with this and hearing it again, well, you know.” 

“I don’t really get what you’re saying?” Yuri asks despite the out Katsuki gave him. It’s more important that he try to ease some of the weight that Katsuki is carrying. And it’s probably above Yuri’s paygrade but he’s going to try.

Katsuki sighs again and plays with something off screen, the dull sound of a pen tapping against a notepad betraying his worries.

“The way people were congratulating Victor after he secured his place in the Final made it seem more like luck than his skill and he’s been struggling with that. I mean, there is an element of luck, because it depends on who you end up skating again; like how he didn’t have to skate against you in the qualifiers. But he still made it.” 

“Of course he made it. You’re coaching him,” Yuri says, scowling a little. He wishes he had known about this sooner; he could have chewed out the idiot who was asking those stupid questions, probably looking for a good sound bite. Katsuki is visibly stressed and it makes Yuri’s chest ache. “Point out the fuckheads at the GPF and I’ll remind them how old I was when I first got into the Final.”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki says with a chuckle. “You can’t get sent to jail for beating someone up. How is Victor going to beat you like that?” 

“Fuck off, Katsuki,” Yuri says lazily. Katsuki just laughs again and Yuri basks in the sound. “I’d break out to keep my records. I’m the Ice Tiger of Russia; they couldn’t keep me locked up.” 

“Could you imagine that? I could see you doing that. Your fans would love it.” Katsuki is teasing him but it’s so playful that Yuri can even find himself being riled up. 

“It would be a crime not to have me on the ice,” Yuri says. He’s mostly done packing so he flops onto the bed, repositioning the camera to face him. “My fans would revolt and take down the ISU. We’d make figure skating a national sport and the world would finally be at peace.” 

“All hail the Ice Tiger,” Katsuki says. 

Yuri can’t help snorting with laughter. 

“You’d better make time for me during the Finals,” Yuri says, even though he knows Katsuki will. “I’m not going to be happy to wait for Nationals now. So don’t fuck it up.” 

“I could say the same to you. People keep saying you’re trying for a quad lutz. How is Yakov letting you do that?” Katsuki asks. Yuri thinks he hears concern in his voice and he preens a little at the thought that it’s for him even though it’s totally unnecessary. 

“He can’t stop me,” Yuri says and Katsuki gives a fond sigh. 

“Don’t get hurt before the Final,” Katsuki says. “Can’t they wait until after Nationals at least?” 

“No,” Yuri says, half being a little shit and half serious. That BJ kid has been practising his quad loop enough that it’s a legitimate threat. The other skaters are upping their game too, thinking that they have a shot at the title now that Katsuki isn’t around, thinking they can edge Yuri out of his rightful place at the top. “You know it can’t. The newer skaters can’t beat me on PCS so they need to up their TES. It’ll be a one-two punch once their performance scores start going up. I’m not going to let anyone take away the titles that should be mine that easily.” 

“You’re right,” Katsuki says. He shrugs a little and vaguely gestures to himself. “I mean, I know, you’re right. I’m here training a new senior to take you down. I know exactly what you mean.” 

Yuri laughs at how Katsuki phrases that, but it’s true, and it’s nice to hear him speak so plainly of it. It’s so annoying to have to pare back how much he wants to win. He could spit and snarl with the ache of it some days. But that part isn’t interesting to everyone and even Yuri has learned to recognize that some interviewers just want a pretty face on the cover of their magazine or for their five minutes of airtime. 

“I’ll try not to fuck up,” Yuri promises him. “That would be the shittiest luck, to mess something up right before Marseilles.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to Marseilles. What should be do there after the competition? What even is there to do?” Katsuki asks, with a tone that says he’s about to look it up. 

“Ugh, I don’t know,” Yuri says. “Fuck the city. Just stay in my hotel room.” 

He’s about to regret saying that when he looks at Katsuki.

“It wouldn’t be so bad to be in your room the whole time,” Katsuki says, eyes hooded and dark with want. Yuri swallows, eager and ready, because he loves that look. He wants Katsuki to devour him and leave nothing of him left. 

“You’d never want to leave,” Yuri promises, slowly reaching down to push his pants over his hips. He takes his underwear off too, needing to touch his cock. “I’d fuck you so good you’d never go back.” 

“I can’t see you,” Katsuki complains and Yuri huffs a little. 

“You can see my dick or my face but not both,” he says. “The angle is too weird.” 

Katsuki watches him then sighs. 

“I do like to watch your face when you come,” he says and Yuri fails to hold back a whimper. Katsuki hears it too, judging by the smirk. “I wonder if I can make you come first.” 

“Bastard, no you can’t,” Yuri says all in one breath. “I’m gonna be the one to pin you down and fuck you good.” 

“Yeah? Then I want you inside me,” Katsuki moans, and he shoves three fingers into his mouth, slicking them up and moving them out of frame. 

But Yuri knows exactly where they are going and when Katsuki hisses as he starts to finger himself, Yuri cries out. He wants to be there, to be the one to open Katsuki up and then push him down to fuck him. 

“You’d be so much better,” Katsuki says in between his satisfied groans. 

“God, fuck yeah, I’d fill you up,” Yuri says and he’s going to chafe the hell out of his dick like this but he can’t stop. “I’d fuck you again and again till you get hard again for me and then I’d fuck you all night. You’re going to cry for me to stop, to keep going, and you won’t fucking know which it is until you’re coming again.” 

Katsuki cries out with pure want in his voice. Yuri pushes up into his hand, coming hard for what’s just a skype session. He looks up to see Katsuki looking as wrecked as he feels.

“I win,” Katsuki says. 

“You did not,” Yuri says, scowling a little at the come on the sheets. He’s going to have to strip the bed now.

“Guess we both won this time,” Katsuki says and Yuri can’t help a laugh at that. It’s so stupid but Katsuki is grinning and it’s adorable. 

“I mean it, I’m going to fuck the shit out of you at the Finals,” Yuri says, inwardly grimacing at how sticky he feels. He’s worked up a sweat, all the way up to his hair, which is irritatingly sticking to his face. 

“Promise?” Katsuki asks. Yuri can only nod. “Good.” 

Yuri pulls his legs up a little, sliding one of his hands between his legs. He wants to touch Katsuki and do something sappy like stroke his hair. But he’s in Beijing and Katsuki is in Hasetsu. 

“I should clean up,” Yuri says reluctantly. “I’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow morning.” 

“Ah, yeah, you should sleep,” Katsuki says. He flushes a little and looks away from the camera. “T-thank you, I think? Or good night. Yes, good night would be better. Have a safe flight, even.” 

“Thanks. Night,” Yuri says and shoves his phone under his pillow. God he’s so cold but he doesn’t know what to say to sound cool around Katsuki sometimes. 

He wasn’t lying about the plane though and Yuri forces himself out of bed to clean up. The entire time he’s thinking about what they should do in Marseilles, aside from the competition itself and the fact that they’ll spending plenty of time in Yuri’s room. 

He might be more excited to see Katsuki than to win gold. 

Yuri huffs a laugh at himself, at the idea, then steps into the shower while still smiling like a fool. It’s grossly untrue but that the thought even crossed his mind means he’s a dumbass. And he can’t bring himself to be mad about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: Okay a few things
> 
> Paperback version is cancelled as explained [here](https://scribblyorro.tumblr.com/post/170213823511/re-print-version-of-where-my-heart-lies-tldr). Right now I’m focused on finishing this fic + other fics. Maybe we’ll revisit it once this fic is done but I’d rather focus on stuff I can probably achieve in the future rather than failures in the past. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> (Basically let me bury my shame and let’s move on.)
> 
> I signed up for the [Live Love Big Bang](https://liveloveyoibang.tumblr.com/about). I’ll be writing a phichuuri fic for it. For the second bing to it I co-wrote a [Yuuri x Yuuko x Takeshi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283717) piece with the lovely greygerbil and veronica. (I want to join in the fourth bing too but we’ll see.)
> 
> I wrote three small pieces for Yuri Week: [Victuurio](https://scribblyorro.tumblr.com/post/172299227601/victuurio-yuri-week-day-one-celebration), [Yuragil](https://scribblyorro.tumblr.com/post/172313381787/yuragil-yuri-week-day-two-rarepairs), and [Yuri & Lilia](https://scribblyorro.tumblr.com/post/172344805383/lilia-yuri-yuri-week-day-three-support%20).
> 
> Thank you to Mjus for the music help!
> 
> And of course, thank you for all your lovely comments x3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER
> 
> Present day - Yuri and Victor advance to the Grand Prix Final. Yuri is ready to take the GPF Gold for himself. Victor comes face to face with those that doubt him due to his age and inexperience but Yuuri works with him to prove that part of the audience wrong. Otabek Altin introduces himself to Yuri but chickens out before he can talk to his idol in any substantial way. Also there’s yuuyu skype sex; Yuuri and Yuri are very much looking forward to the GPF and meeting up there.
> 
> Flashback scene - Yuuri skates in hopes that Yuri notices his eros and understands that he wants more than just sex from him, he wants a relationship.

**Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final**  
**Marseille, France**  
**December 2016**

The hotel bar is sparse, filled with enough people that it’s not lonely but not so many that it’s loud. Yuuri is thankful for this as he plops onto the stool next to Chris. There had been a screaming child on the airplane and though they hadn’t been screaming the entire time, it’d been a constant thing for the last forty five minutes of the ride. 

“Where’s your student?” Chris asks. 

“Jetlagged,” Yuuri says as he flags the bartender down. Chris raises his eyebrow at his choice of alcohol. “What?” 

“Aren’t you jetlagged too? Is that a smart choice?” He asks. 

“It can’t hurt at this point,” Yuuri says with a chuckle. “And I’m only getting one. I’m banking on you still competing to not push me to have another.” 

“Ugh, well played,” Chris admits, pulling a face. He’s clearly limiting himself to one drink as well by that reaction. “Maybe after we’ll have time to get properly shit faced. I’m betting on gold for myself here. Care to take me up on that bet?” 

“No fair,” Yuuri says as he accepts his glass and takes a deep drink. “I can’t bet against my student and friend.” 

“And lover?” Chris says with a wink. 

Yuuri takes another drink to avoid that one.

“Yeah, that too,” he mumbles into his glass with a fierce blush. Chris hoots in laughter and claps him on the back. Yuuri glares at him to settle down. 

“I’m happy for you,” Chris says. “Though I don’t understand it.” 

“Well, I understand it just about as much as you do, if that makes you feel better,” Yuuri says. 

“Not really,” Chris says. He plants his elbow on the table to prop his chin up, contemplative as he stares at the bottles lining the bar. “But you seem content and I suppose that asshole gives you a run for your money.” 

Yuuri smiles; he should probably object to his boyfriend being called an asshole but Yuri-kun really is. But he’s more than that to Yuuri. He gets to see so many more sides of him than most people do. And rather than defend Yuri-kun and explain to Chris what Yuri-kun can really be like, part of him wants to jealously guard it for himself. 

“You’re lucky he’s not in town yet,” Yuuri teases. “He’d be mad I’m spending time with another man.” 

“Well, I am very handsome,” Chris says. He runs his hand through his hair with an erotic smirk though Yuuri just watches him in amusement. “Talented too. About to win the Grand Prix Final. I could snatch you up from right under his nose. I’m a gentle lover, you know.” 

“Gentle,” Yuuri says with a snort. “Is that what you’re calling it now?” 

“Excuse you, I’ve always been a good role model for the youth,” Chris says. He ticks off the reasons on his fingers. “I use condoms, I get tested before partners, I clean my toys-” 

“I don’t want to hear this,” Yuuri groans and drops his head onto the bar, unsurprised to hear Chris laughing at him. “This was a mistake. I should have gone to sleep.” 

“You’re not that innocent so I don’t know why this kind of stuff still makes you blush,” Chris says, smirking. “And you can’t go back now. You’ll wake up your protégé with all your racket. Let the boy sleep.” 

“We have seperate rooms so I wouldn’t,” Yuuri says, determinedly not lifting his head yet. 

“Oh?” Chris says. Yuuri blushes at that tone. “See? That’s the kind of thing I mean. Your own room; now I wonder what you’ll be using that for.”

“Stop,” Yuuri begs. He eyes the bottles but sighs. He’s not going to show up to Victor’s first Grand Prix Final hungover even though more alcohol sounds like a perfectly good idea right now. 

“How did you explain that to your student?” Chris asks. 

“Told him it was a mistake, that I’m used to booking separate rooms for the coach and skater,” Yuuri says. 

“And he bought that?” Chris asks. Yuuri was just as incredulous. 

“He’s focused on the GPF,” Yuuri says with a shrug. Victor hadn’t paid much attention other than briefly cheering that he had his own room then returning to his homework, frantic to finish as much as he could before they had to leave for France. 

“I guess he has his priorities in order,” Chris says. He swirls his glass around then takes a final drink to get the last drops. It’s clear he’s done for the night. He claps Yuuri on the back as he gets up.

“It’s a shame not to see you out there anymore,” Chris murmurs and Yuuri shakes his head at him with a smile. 

“I do miss it. But I like being on this side of the ice more than I thought,” Yuuri says. 

Chris gives him a look then claps him on the back again. 

“Yeah, I know. It kind of scares me a little,” he says and Yuuri blinks in surprise. But then he understands. Yuuri is only a few years older than Chris. Soon Chris’ time to retire will come as well. 

“Ah, Chris,” Yuuri starts but Chris puts a finger to his lips. 

“I can guess what you’re going to say. But I’m fired up to compete. I don’t want to think about anything more than a few days in advance right now. Maybe later, we can get drinks and talk about it.” 

“Yes, that would be good,” Yuuri says, relieved. “Good night, Chris.” 

“Night,” Chris says, giving him a backwards wave as he heads to his room. 

Yuuri shakes his head at him, but it’s fond; retirement looms over all the skaters, ever present as they get older, since their careers are so short as competitive figure skaters. Yuuri stays at the bar a while longer, getting a glass of water as he sits, slightly mauldin at thought. 

He likes where he is now. But it’s different to come to the GPF as a coach instead of a competitor. And for a few minutes he lets himself think about the possibilities, of the mistakes he’s made, and of the paths ahead of him. 

Then he pays and heads up to his room, washing away the grime from the airplane ride and getting ready for the night. There’s too much waiting for him here; he has a student competing, Phichit will be coming into town tomorrow, Yuri-kun will be arriving the day after, and they still have to scope out the rink.

He texts Yuri-kun that he’s arrived in Marseille and then passes out, knowing that there will be a response from Yuri-kun in the morning waiting for him.

**Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final**  
**Marseille, France**  
**December 2016**

“Please watch where you’re going,” Yuuri says for the dozenth time as Victor nearly runs into someone. He’s too busy looking around in awe at the rink. 

Victor knows his mouth is wide open and Yakov would have told him something about catching flies but he can’t help it. He’s here at the GPF, where only six skaters in the world make it each year, and he’s one of them. In his senior debut. He could practically fly, he feels so good. 

“You know a lot of people here,” Victor notes as a third person stops them to greet Yuuri. 

“Eh? Not really,” Yuuri says. “But I mean, I was skating competitively for a while, so it’s a not a surprise that I know some people.”

Yuuri is ahead of him so he can’t see how Victor beams at him, but it’s just another reminder to him of how lucky he is to have Yuuri as his coach. He’s the one being coached by the living legend. And he’s going to prove to everyone today that it’s been worth it. 

“Yuuri! Someone has a banner with my name on it!” Victor exclaims as they enter the arena, pointing to it. It’s not a totally new experience but something about it feels like it’s more important now. 

“Ah, I see it,” Yuuri says, a note of pride in his voice. “I’m sure you’ll see more once you go out to skate.” 

Victor can’t think of anything to say to that so he smiles wide instead, eagerly hoping that’s true. The six minute warm up starts and it’s tense, the emotions of the day heightened now that all the competitors are here. Victor can’t help small looks of admiration for them all; he’s watched them compete, longing for the day he would be in the same area as them. 

And now here he is, first up to skate, ready to kickstart this event.

“Are you ready?” Yuuri asks. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Victor says, shifting on the ice, unable to hold still. 

“Two quads?” Yuuri asks with a smile, already knowing what the answer will be. They’ve been training and practising for this since Victor qualified. 

“Of course! How else am I going to take up your crown?” Victor says with a grin. Yuuri blinks a little at that then chuckles. 

“Go,” Yuuri says and Victor skates out to the center of the rink. 

He’s excited but also nervous; this is the biggest event he’s gone to, and it’s his first time here as a senior. There’s so much running through his mind. He wants to skate well and win, to make his coach proud, to have his friends cheer him on, to show that he’s the best. He’s terrified of failing, of messing up so bad, of getting hurt, of losing. It’s all jumbled up inside of him. 

The first notes of the piano ring out and Victor takes off, eager to show what he can produce. This is what he’s been working on for months with Yuuri. Skating is what he does best so he skates.

There’s something simplistic about this program. It’s an expression of joy for him, because he loves competing on the ice like this, and he can’t imagine wanting to do anything else. Victor digs his toepick into the ice and leaps into the first quad, triumphantly landing and cleanly transitioning to the next set of steps. He’s talented enough to do this and he’s worked hard to bring Yuuri’s choreography to life. 

A clean triple axel as the notes go up in pitch, and Victor can feel himself starting to fade. He always struggles in the second half, putting too much energy into the first, and he’s been working on it but it’s not something he has full control over yet. 

But he can still skate, and he pushes himself through the step sequence, his muscles burning as he tries to show the judges and audience what he’s capable of. 

Victor sets up for the combination jump but he’s not going to make it; he doesn’t have enough speed for the quad, let alone the double after it. Victor crashes to the ice despite his best attempts to stay upright. His heart tries to drop but Victor fights it, needing to finish the program and performance. This is his time to shine. He’s worked so hard for this moment and he can’t let a single mistake ruin it. 

He tries but his last spin isn’t as controlled as he knows it can be. Part of it is he’s still winded from his fall, and though he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, it’s shaken him. 

Victor nearly sobs as he finishes but he chokes it back with a smile, and waves to the cheering audience. He can see more of the banners, people holding up russian flags for him and others with his likeness on them.

“Are you hurt?” Yuuri asks, looking him over with a critical eye. 

“Not really,” Victor says, though now he wonders if he’s going to have a bruise. He can’t feel one showing up yet though that might be because all he can feel is his body trembling after such a performance. 

Victor stares at his score on the scoreboard, practically glaring it down. He knows he shouldn’t be looking so offended but he’s disappointed and angry at himself. He can do so much better. 

“You still have the free program,” Yuuri says. Victor blinks and it breaks the spell; he turns to look at him and Yuuri isn’t smiling but he’s calm. “And you never know what will happen with the other skaters.” 

“I shouldn’t have done two quads,” Victor says. 

“Hmm,” Yuuri says as he gets up, smoothing out his jacket. “Maybe. Or maybe you need to build up your endurance. We have plenty of time to work on it. But Victor? I’m proud of you for trying. I really am.” 

There’s a lump in Victor’s throat but he doesn’t want to cry right now so instead he settles for throwing himself at Yuuri, who expects it and catches him with his left arm, letting Victor cling to it as they leave the kiss and cry. 

**World Figure Skating Championships**  
**Shanghai, China**  
**March 2015**

Yuri sits on his hotel room bed and stares at his phone. Usually he just exchanges room numbers with Katsuki but last night he had also added a ‘please come’. And it’s throwing Yuri off. What is Katsuki really asking for? If he’s skating like that then he’s clearly gotten over whatever shyness he had regarding sensuality. 

A pang of heat flashes through him at remembering that short program. God, it’d been so fucking hot, and he’s seen Katsuki naked. He’d been so busy drinking it in and then the afternoon and evening had been filled with press so he hasn’t gotten a chance to properly enjoy it. 

He resists because it’ll be so much better to satisfy himself between Katsuki’s legs rather than his own hand. 

And the best part is that even with all that, Yuri had taken first place in the short program. He responds back to Katsuki to tell him he’s on his way. They’ve already had morning practice and if he misses afternoon practice to spend it in bed with Katsuki, well, Yakov can yell at him all he wants. Yuri is an adult. 

His wardrobe selection is highly limited since he packed for a competition, but he still dithers over the right thing to wear, though it should all be coming off really quick. 

His hand is steady when he finally arrives at Katsuki’s room and knocks on the door, and he can hear the sound of music being turned off as Katsuki gets up to answer.

“Hi,” Katsuki says, stammering a little even though he looks at Yuri like he’s the sweetest meal he can imagine. 

Yuri doesn’t bother with a greeting. He slams the door behind him and presses Katsuki into the wall. Katsuki wraps his arms around him and responds in kind. 

Yuri kisses him as if trying to devour him. He’d never seen Katsuki move like that on the ice. It had felt like he’d been calling out to him, a sweet song of seduction for one person only, and Yuri was delirious enough to think it was for him. Katsuki can have whatever groupie he wants but he keeps coming back to Yuri. 

“I’m glad,” Katsuki says, forehead pressed to Yuri’s as they catch their breath. “I didn’t think, I wasn’t sure-” 

“You’re glad? About what?” Yuri asks, trying to kiss him again. He doesn’t care about the question or the answer. He wants to feel better. 

“You know,” Katsuki says, turning his face away so he can speak. Yuri’s kiss lands on his cheek. There’s a flush to Katsuki and he’s not sure if it’s from their kiss or from whatever Katsuki can’t bring himself to spit out. 

“Yeah,” Yuri says with a laugh. “I’m glad I got first place.” 

He can’t figure out what Katsuki is talking about. But maybe he finally understands that no matter how prettily he skates, Yuri is better, and he’s going to prove it this year. 

Katsuki pauses, then draws away a bit, blinking at him. His fingers dig into Yuri’s arms.

“All you ever talk about is how you’re going to beat me,” Katsuki says in a strange tone. 

“Because I am?” Yuri says. He can’t keep it from being a question at Katsuki’s tone. “I beat you in the short program.” 

“You have no fucking clue,” Katsuki hisses and Yuri, shamefully, grows harder at Katsuki’s rough touch and words because he’s never heard Katsuki curse or sound so furious. Katsuki notices and his gazes turns stony, then he digs his knee into Yuri’s cock. It’s so good but there’s something wrong, something off, and he doesn’t have a chance to figure it out, not when he’s denied himself this pleasure since yesterday. Yuri comes, unsatisfyingly so, since Katsuki pulls his knee away once he realizes that Yuri is coming. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning against the wall to support himself. His pants are all sticky and he’s going to have to go back to his room like this unless he borrows something of Katsuki’s. 

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees, mild and maddeningly calm even though Yuri knows without a doubt it’s a mask. Instead he slips out of Yuri’s reach and starts stripping, carelessly tossing his clothes around. It’s on purpose too, as if he doesn’t care. “Well, come on, let’s do this. We have afternoon practice to get to.” 

Yuri blinks, and he opens his mouth but shuts it again, unsure of what’s going on. He starts taking his own clothes off, slower than Katsuki, trying to understand. They’re still going to fuck and that’s what he came for, of course. But it’s wrong, somehow, just out of his reach. 

All he can do is follow the rhythm that Katsuki sets, and he doesn’t protest as he’s shoved to his back. He looks up to see Katsuki focused on stroking him to hardness again, refusing to look him in the eye. 

It’s wrong, wrong, wrong, but so good? It’s still Katsuki, who knows that Yuri loves when the head of his cock is rubbed and he likes a lot of pressure there, and it doesn’t take Yuri long to get hard again. 

“Wait,” Yuri says, putting his hands on Katsuki’s hips as he gets ready to line himself up to Yuri’s cock. 

“Why? This is what you came for, right?” Katsuki says, still not looking at him. He tilts his head up as he sinks down and groans as Yuri fills him up. 

“Fuck, so good,” Yuri says instead. He wants to ask what’s wrong, because something is clearly wrong, and he knows he’s an ass. He did something, or said something, probably. 

“It’s okay,” Katsuki murmurs and Yuri snaps his hips up, insulted. He knows Katsuki is saying it just to piss him off but it works. Katsuki smirks, eyes closed and face still turned up, and it burns at him. Why the fuck is he making this so difficult? “Again.” 

“You fucking,” Yuri says, but he does it again, harder. But Katsuki just keeps demanding more. And he’s clenching down so tight on him, Yuri can’t help himself as he comes, knowing that Katsuki is still unsatisfied. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

“Ah, that’s it,” Katsuki says, finally looking down and meeting his eyes. He looks bored. 

“I’m not done,” Yuri snarls. 

Katsuki gives a small hum, clearly disbelieving him, and then plants his hands on his chest and starts to ride him for all he’s worth, taking his own pleasure with little help from Yuri. He doesn’t look thrilled about his climax though and his eyes screwed tight as he spills onto his hand. Only a few drops land on Yuri; the rest he wipes off on the bed sheets. 

As soon as he’s done he swings off of Yuri and moves away from him.

“I’m going to shower,” Katsuki says. 

Yuri turns the other way so he doesn’t see Katsuki climb out of the bed. He understands he’s supposed to be gone before Katsuki finishes washing up. But he waits until the door clicks behind Katsuki to get up and clean himself up as best he can. 

He winces as he slides his still wet pants on, thankful his jacket is long enough to hide the tell tale stain. There’s no way Katsuki will let him borrow anything. 

He hesitates at the door. For so long he had just assumed that what they had was casual sex but after Katsuki’s skate, he’d figured that had been wrong. That maybe Katsuki had wanted more from him all along, that Katsuki had wanted all of him. 

Now he’s not sure. 

Yuri leaves without saying anything this time. He’s not bruised but he feels like he was. 

**Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final**  
**Marseille, France**  
**December 2016**

Everyone has done some version of Swan Lake and everyone thinks they can reinterpret it anew. Yuri is vain enough to think that he can be that person while also cynical enough to know that it’s a long shot. 

Which means of course he was going to fucking do Swan Lake, to Lilia’s extreme pleasure, not that she ever said it. But Yuri knows what approval from her looks like and once he’d agreed with her choice of music, she’d been very approving indeed. 

He stares out at the audience, gaze unfocused as he absently looks for Katsuki, because he knows that there’s no way he’ll miss his performance. He’s a busy coach but that won’t stop him, and part of Yuri wants to preen at that. But he sort of wants to see him before it. It’d be better if Katsuki was here instead of Yakov. 

“Focus,” Yakov snaps and Yuri gives him a blank look. He’s next after the Chulanont kid finishes skating. “You heard me. Your mind is somewhere else today. It needs to be here, in the rink, on the ice.” 

“No shit,” Yuri says and a vein starts pulsing on Yakov’s forehead. 

“You keep saying you’re going to win here but you won’t win if you think you’ve already got the medal,” Yakov says. “Don’t mess it up, boy.” 

“I’m taller than you,” Yuri says, petty because he doesn’t get what Yakov is saying. Of course he’s going to win here. The other competitions are good but they aren’t at Yuri’s level. Even Victor, shining bright with potential, is still far below him thanks to Yuri’s years of experience. 

With that he takes off, soaking in the good luck cheers, not that he needs them. This is stage he’s been waiting for, the beginning of his victory streak, now that Katsuki has stepped down. 

Yuri waits for the first notes to play, then begins to move, sharp and focused on his goal to take all. He is the Black Swan that takes what is his, whether it be medals or lovers, because it’s what he wants. 

Though Yuri has to chuckle at the thought because how is that a swan? That sounds more like a wild beast, which he can get behind, even if Lilia sniffs and insists he’s not a feral creature. Maybe Yuri is slightly tamer now that he’s older but he’s not a pretty little fairy dancing on the ice anymore. 

Yuri holds his ending pose for a moment, arms outstretched behind him as though they were wings, head down and eyes closed. Then he breaks his pose to accept the adoration from the audience. He’s definitely going to get first place and he doesn’t bother to hide his pleasure at what he already knows to be truth. 

Yakov is giving him an unimpressed look and Yuri scowls at him. 

“What?” he demands. 

“You’re a fool,” Yakov says plainly. Yuri rolls his eyes. “What was that out there?” 

“A stunning performance,” Yuri says, mimicking the commentators as they sit down in the kiss and cry. 

“Idiot,” Yakov snaps. “What were you skating? I told you to keep your mind on your performance. That was no black swan.”

Yuri groans. “I should have picked something else. I thought you were happy I went with Lilia’s choice.” 

“When I thought you were taking it seriously,” Yakov grumbles, arms across his chest. 

“You’re just mad that Lilia likes what I’m skating,” Yuri says though he knows it’s not true. But Yakov ignores him as Yuri’s score is announced. 

“I was expecting you to score at least ten points over Giacometti,” Yakov says. He’s displeased that Yuri only has a three point cushion, barely anything, even though Yuri is in first place. 

“Ah shove off, old man,” Yuri says without anger. He’s first and that’s the important part. 

He spends the afternoon doing press and it’s late before he gets a chance to himself. Yakov leaves him with a reminder that he has morning practice and Yuri sets his alarm before he can forget, though Yakov himself is an excellent alarm. 

He texts Katsuki but before he can respond, Yuri actually runs into him in the lobby. 

“Oh, Yuri-kun,” Katsuki says, blinking in surprise. He gestures to his phone. “I just got your text.” 

“Still want to come to my room?” Yuri asks. He’s exhausted but they have a limited time together, all the more that Katsuki has a skater to babysit. 

“You look tired,” Katsuki says. He frowns. “And hungry.” 

“I’m not,” Yuri says, petulant. Then he tries to remember the last time he ate. “Okay, well, I am starving.” 

“There’s no more room service at this hour. Let’s go out and get something to eat?” Katsuki suggests. 

“Sure,” he says, focused on food now that he’s realized he’s hungry. 

They end up in a bar and as tempting as the drinks are it’s too late for him to even think about it. 

“What did you think about everyone’s skating today?” Yuri asks in between bites. “But tell me about mine first in case I fall asleep in my plate.” 

Katsuki laughs as Yuri mimes it happening. Then he props his chin on his hand and thinks. 

“It was technically good as always. But I dunno. It didn’t feel like you had connected with it?” Katsuki says. He scrunches his face up. “Sorry.” 

“Ah shut up,” Yuri says. He doesn’t want Katsuki’s apologies. “I mean, you’re wrong, but I don’t like hearing you say sorry for nothing.” 

“I’m not wrong though,” Katsuki says, like the annoying person he is. “Your short program was better at China. It felt more like a swan’s performance. Tonight was more like, hm, aggressive?” 

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Yuri gripes as he gently kicks Katsuki’s foot under the table, not hard enough to hurt, but just to add to his point. 

“You would listen to me if you’d gotten second place,” Katsuki teases, kicking him back once then moving his leg away.

“Maybe,” Yuri concedes. Probably not but it’s not impossible. 

Katsuki offers to pay for him and Yuri accepts, beginning to crash. He really should have gone straight to bed but he’s a dumbass sap, and he wanted to spend time with Katsuki.

“Fuck, I’m tired,” Yuri says with another wide yawn as they head back. He can feel his jaw pop and judging by the face Katsuki makes he heard it too. 

“If you want, you can come sleep with me,” he suggests carefully as the enter the hotel. “I know you’re tired. I won’t expect anything more.” 

“Fuck off,” Yuri says but he’s too exhausted. He doesn’t think he could stay awake long enough for even a quick blowjob. “I can still fuck you. It’ll be the best ever.” 

“I’m sure,” Katsuki says, dry. “I’m not into the whole sex during sleep though so I’m going to pass on your offer.” 

“Fuck. You,” Yuri says. “Wait, no, don’t fuck you. You don’t get me. There, punished. No sex, just sleep. Ha, I win.” 

“I’m devastated,” he says with a smile. 

It’s annoying but in a cute way, and Yuri just wants to kiss his stupid face. He settles for draping himself across Katsuki’s back as they ride up the elevator to Katsuki’s room, and it’s nice, because Katsuki is warm and soft, while still being strong enough to keep from buckling under Yuri’s weight. 

“Go get ready for bed,” Katsuki says, pushing him into the bathroom, and Yuri whines but obeys. 

He kicks off his clothes, walking back into the room in his underwear only, but Katsuki just pats the bed. Yuri decides to fuck it and wraps himself around Katsuki as much as possible, curling up and already beginning to drift off. Katsuki asks him some kind of question but he just murmurs a nonsense answer. Then he feels him scratching his head, and Yuri almost moans. Katsuki’s hand slows down.

“It’s good,” he mumbles. Katsuki laughs a little. “Don’t stop.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Katsuki promises.

Yuri gives a content sigh and goes to sleep to the feeling of Yuuri’s hand running across his scalp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I haven’t updated this since April, I’m so sorry, my friends. I can actually point to the things that took up all that time though. 
> 
> I finally finished that fic for the FTH auction and it’s a [Victor-in-a-dress-VicChris](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15234117). RSOI happened and I got [this amazing art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15216020). I wrote an [ace kink YuuYu fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15108422) for Keagan. I posted my [Chasing Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681369) piece. And by October I should have a phichuuri bang fic up.
> 
> Thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy the chapter!


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